


Yuri on Force

by kanzaki19



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (probably), Anxiety Attacks, Drunken Shenanigans, Fluff and Smut, Gun Violence, Humor, Implied/Referenced Anxiety Attack, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-08-03 10:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 43,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16324502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanzaki19/pseuds/kanzaki19
Summary: Dime-A-Dozen Rookie Katsuki Yuuri is just another face behind a badge trying to work his way through the ranks and make a name for himself.(or no one forgets their first arrest and sometimes lofty goals are achievable)





	1. midnight rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of love and terror and would not be what it is if it weren't for my bff and all the lovely peeps on Bedtime and Mixtape! There are not enough thanks in the world, you guys are amazing!

The night was proving unusually stubborn in its slow march towards dawn. Not that the hours hadn’t been crawling along for months now. 

That anxiety ridden thought spiral was for a different day though.

Tonight was for planning and contemplation and would determine if all his life choices to this point had been the right ones or just a folly; ignorance of youth. Some dreams, he was learning, were too large to carry on his own and the separation was going to be the death of him.  
___

On the outside, the premise of the job was simple: snag the kid, hold them until the family (or whoever) pays, release the kid on some random street corner. Rinse, repeat.

This job, however, was dirty from the start.

The kid, they would be informed after she had been picked up and securely locked away, was the eight-teen year old daughter of the lead family for a rival gang which had been trying to encroach into well established territory that was owned and maintained by an old money family who had been in power for generations.

The incidents leading up to the dramatic decision to kidnap a young member of the family had been a growing list of minor inconveniences for the most part; petty theft and burglaries, graffiti and criminal mischief. The punishments were appropriate and doled out swiftly and definitively. The lines of dominance easy to discern. Until they weren’t.

Two weeks prior the upstarts had gotten brazen; made a direct move on a drug shipment. Millions in product snagged mid-shipment; the couriers gunned down and left to bleed out in a back alley. Although the circumstances pointed to an insider, everyone responsible would be taught a lesson.

The rival family would be dealt with first, a violent push back to the outskirts of beyond in hopes of persuading them to stay in their own little corner of the world. Or run the risk of being pushed out and taken over.

The traitors always come second. They are pulled to the side, invited in, shown the world as seen from the top. Spend a few nights in the lap of luxury. Breakfast always a beautiful affair. Lunch with the boss. An early grave by dinner some short time later. There is no room for traitors. Organizations crumbled when traitors walked amongst the chosen. Examples needed to be made. Reputation is very important and must be maintained.

The detailed directions after the abduction had lead them to a small house in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Far enough into the unincorporated developments that they were beyond the immediate reach of the local police. The cookie cutter appearance afforded them the anonymity of a child friendly environment and a garage to stash the cars in. As long as they could keep their heads down the neighbors would never suspect a thing.

Theoretically.  
___

From his place slouched, low in his chair, at the table Shin can see both the front and back door as well as the hall that leads to the bedrooms. Anxiety simmers under his skin. They are running out of time. With a sigh he watches the two thugs across from him bicker with each other.

“I’m telling you we need to make another demand!” Markus argues crossing from the kitchen.

“All I’m saying is if we press for more money it’ll give them more time to involve outsiders.” James counters messily around a bite of food, his greasy brown hair falling into his dull eyes.

“But if we don't ask for enough they won't take us seriously.” Marcus shakes his head, his dirty blond hair catching the light, chair scraping the floor as he pulls it from under the table. “I'm not chancing jail time for kidnapping the brat unless there's a payout!”

“Hell all the boss wants is enough to cover what the family stole and that ain't nothin but pocket change for him.” James smirks. “Tell ‘im Shin, she ain’t worth nothing more than pocket change. Right?”

Shin looks between the two, his messy dark hair falling into his face, partially covering his eyes. “Neither of your arguments are worth the breath you're wasting on them.” He pauses to ensure he has their full attention. “We have the kid. The demands have already been made and our direct orders leave no room for discussion. They have until midnight.” He ticks off the list staring them both down. “The family knows what’ll happen if they don't comply, so sit down and enjoy supper before it gets cold and messy.”

Marcus throws himself back into his chair mumbling under his breath.

“Do you have something to add?” Shin asks, his voice taking on a sharp icy edge as he turns his glare directly on the thug.

“I said, that doesn’t make any sense. No one pays for dead hostages.”

“We should call them on our own, tell them they can buy her life with and extra few zeros.” James adds with a smirk.

“The both of you are insufferable. I'm gonna check on the kid.” Without a backwards glance Shin leaves the table, taking his untouched plate of food and an unopened bottle of water with him.

The moderately sized house is not large enough to afford total isolation; he can hear the quiet cries long before he reaches the opened door.

The abduction had been quick. Executed in the shadows of a parking garage in broad daylight, her car brought with them to limit loose ends or possible leads. Her phone had been powered down in the garage, the sim card slipped into a burner phone without GPS. The girl had been in their custody for over five hours before her family missed her enough to try and reach her.

In her exhausted, terrified state, she was still defiant; her fire still raging at times. Her pleas for release had been heartfelt and tearful from the start though. If one looked hard enough as time progressed the watcher would have witnessed the fear as it crept over her. Slowly hunching her shoulders and firmly settling on her brow.

Shin tried not to look too hard. 

When he did he could see himself in her and the impending execution was already a hard enough pill to swallow without imagining his head on the block.

The upstarts needed to be reminded, drugs were replaceable. Human lives weren't.

A week into this ordeal and Shin is beyond disgusted and more than a little sad with how little her family seems to care for her. As far as he has been informed there hasn’t been a peep from them or any of their associates. If he lets himself think about it too hard he can see the irony of the situation; the sacrifice of family for power. Isn’t that always the case? If it isn’t power it's a career.

Family, life, love, they all seem to get pushed to the back burner and forgotten. In all honesty he just wants the whole thing over and done with. Maybe then he will have a chance to return to his life, his love. He hates himself for thinking like that. It’s a vicious cycle.

“I brought you something for dinner.” He says quietly stepping into the room, startling her from her sobbing in the process.

From the doorway the bed is diagonal from him, pushed against the single window to open the room and limit hiding places. The closet to his immediate right shields just a touch of the room from the doorway creating one of the only blind spots in the room and has been cleared with it’s doors removed, a sheet tacked over half of the newly exposed closest, is the other blind spot. It serves as a permanent observation point to keep an eye on the girl and as an ambush location if the need should ever arise.

“What difference does it make?” She asks dashing the tears from her cheeks. “We both know how all of this is going to end.” There is fire in her eyes as she glares at him; forest green locked onto him so soundly he can feel the weight of it in his soul.

He chuckles setting the offerings on the dresser top a few steps from the door. “Who knows,” he starts, running fingers through his dark hair pushing it back from his face, “maybe the cops will show up to save the day. Knights in shining armor and all that romanticized nonsense.” He twists his wrist a few times as if to minimize the whole idea.

“I wish they would, maybe then I'd get the honor of seeing you gunned down.” She spits.

With a low growl Shin spins towards her. “You better remember who's been taking care of you and keeping the real monsters at bay. You think I like babysitting some spoilt rich kid who thinks she's better than everyone else?”

Jumping to her feet she crosses the small room to stand toe to toe with him, her head just clearing his shoulders, finally finding the fight burning in her bones; that’s the reaction he wanted, the resolve she is going to need to survive the night. “You are no better than they are.” The words are hissed, dripping with venom as she jabs her finger in his chest. “You are nothing but a filthy lap dog. Taking orders and grovelling to your damn Master with your tail between your legs.”

Snatching her wrist Shin forces her back a few steps to the center of the room; out of the line of sight of the door.

Glancing at her new proximity to the bed with large eyes she turns on him again gaze narrowing in a glare. “Nothing but a filthy dog.” She repeats trying to twist her hand free from his grip.

Movement through a thin gap in the curtains catches his attention and with a curse he yanks her against his body, twisting away from the window and throwing them both to the floor; covering her as best he can as an explosion rips through the window sending glass and debris raining into the room. Similar explosions echo from down the hall but it's the light reflecting off a small metal can as it falls to the floor across from them, spewing white smoke at an alarming rate that holds his attention.

Over the ringing in his ears he can hear the yelling of orders and instructions before a series of gunshots ring out from down the hall. A thousand things run through Shin’s brain at once. They are a sitting duck in the middle of the room. They need to move, it'll only be moments before the room is swarmed by SWAT.

Jumping to his feet he snatches her up by the back of the shirt and drags her to the far wall next to the closet. Spinning her to face him he forces her face against his shoulder in an attempt to protect her nose and mouth as he pulls his shirt up with his free hand to do the same for him.

Shin holds her locked against his right side, tucked partially under his shoulder so most of her body is beside or behind him, hidden from the closet. Once he is sure she will not move he retrieves his weapon, the gun gripped in his right hand, aimed just to the side of the door. He can hear them as they make their way through the house ensuring every room is cleared. The smoke has just begun to settle when the fully covered black clad figures file into the room. The two front officers hold their assault rifles level at him. An obvious killing shot if either fire.

“Drop your weapon.” The taller one demands, as he enters, his voice calm despite the situation, “This is over.”

Shin glances quickly towards his left and with a knowing smirk and turns his hand palm-side to the officers, a pseudo-offering of surrender, before dropping it to chest level, arm wrapped around the girls shoulders protectively and firing a single shot towards the closet.

His body is already falling, forcing the girl to the floor and the safety the bed can provide, as the bullet leaves the chamber. Gunshots erupt from the shattered window before the first officer can call them off. His demands of ‘hold your fire’ are quickly heeded and the silence that follows is heavy.

The second officer slings his rifle over his shoulder as he dives for Shin and the hostage. Wrenching Shin up from the floor by his arm the officer uses the momentum to force him to the bed. His expert hands checking for any wounds and finding the one on the upper left side of his chest.

Shin’s screams of pain are choked and gurgly as he thrashes against the pressure before his senses and exhaustion over take him.

“Send the med unit in! He’s still alive!” The officer demands. “Open your eyes damnit!”

Struggling through a fit of wet coughs, Shin complies. His rich mahogany eyes unable at first to find focus but finally locking onto ocean blue.

On to Home.

“Stay with me.” The officer orders, voice more of a plea than a demand, his black gloved hands still pressed against the wound trying to stop the bleeding and preventing any additional air from getting into the chest cavity.

When the medics enter the officer releases Shin to the team. Ever vigilant even from a distance, refusing to let the injured man out of his sight as he is being prepped for transport. 

With Shin's expressive eyes locked on him, he couldn't look away if he wanted.

“I'm in the bus. Giacometti, you're following. Grab Chulanont on the way.”

The first officer nods and quickly hands the girl to another member of the team before following the stretcher out of the house.

The body of a second male remains slumped in the corner of the closet; a single gunshot to the head, a small cluster of wounds in his torso. His gun abandoned on the floor where it had fallen from his cold hand. The sheet, torn from its holdings in the chaos of his death, tangled around him in the mockery of a shroud.


	2. tests and exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surviving the entrance exams is only the beginning

**Four years ago…**

The Admin Building is all angles, cool metal encasing the north and east side; honey warm bricks along the south and west. Pictures don't do it justice. Even the aerial shots of the campus as a whole don't compare once you are actually standing on the grounds. The windows lining the top edge of the building catch sporadic rays of sunlight filtering through the thick layer of morning clouds. The wind still holds a bit of chill in the shadows but the forecast promises a warm afternoon. With a deep breath to calm his nerves Yuuri hitches his backpack further up on his shoulders. It’s going to be a long day.

The applicants filing into the large classroom all seem to congregate to the narrow back rows first. Not that hiding in the back would really do them any good once the festivities really began. Squeezing past a group of rather boisterous applicants, Yuuri makes his way to the front, sitting in the first seat to the left of the center aisle.

Two senior officers enter a few minutes later pulling everyone's attention to the front. They make a striking pair. Each are in regular clothes but the authority they carry is inherent; filling the room and silencing the sparotic conversations.

“Good Morning. I’m Lieutenant Minako Okukawa and this is Sergeant Celestino Cialdini.” She pauses, looking over the classroom. Her dark eyes sharp and all seeing. “We'll be overseeing the examinations today. I hope everyone is bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready to go.” 

“We’re going to start the day with the written portion and move on to the physical ability tests after a short break.” Sergeant Cialdini continues. “The eighty-five of you will have an hour and a half to complete the exam. The directions are straightforward and self explanatory. Once finished you will turn them in and return to your seats to wait out the remaining time.” 

“If you have any questions feel free to ask before the exam starts. Talking is not allowed during.” Lieutenant Okukawa says with a pleasant smile. 

After five minutes to organize and ask questions, silence is called and the test begins.

Half way through the allowed time Yuuri finds himself flipping through the pages of the test, skimming the questions and his answers. Glancing around at the other students nearby does nothing to ease his anxiety. How is he the first one finished? Is it too early to turn the test in?

“If you're done Katsuki bring it up for grading. Otherwise eyes on you own paper, this isn't high school.” Celestino calls loud enough for everyone to hear.

Yuuri feels heat creep up his neck but takes a deep calming breath instead of playing into the embarrassment of being called out by the Sergeant. With squared shoulders he makes his way past the others. This is what he has been studying and training for. Every ounce of blood, sweat and tears are testimony of his efforts and will not have been shed in vain.

“Lieutenant Okukawa, Sergeant Cialdini.” He addresses laying his test on the table in front of them and making to turn back towards his seat.

“Stay put Katsuki,” Minako says with a dangerous fire in her eyes. “Let's see how you did.” She smiles and Yuuri can't help but feel he is being circled by sharks, or that the water will soon be bloody.

The ticking of the clock echoes in the silence. Interrupted only by the soft shuffling of paper and scratching of pens. The scrape from the chair on linoleum snaps Yuuri from his thoughts as the Lieutenant stands.

“For anyone wondering if there is going to be a bell curve to boost your grades,” She begins, her voice echoing in the quiet room, “the answer is No. What ever you make is your final score and if you don't pass you don't play. It was never an option really, but even if it had been, a perfect score would have taken it off the table.” She pauses, locking her gaze on Yuuri. “Good job Katsuki. You're top of the class at the moment. Let's see who your competition will be.”

“Y-yes ma'am.” Yuuri stammers straightening to his full height and fighting the urge to glance over his shoulder at the other applicants.

___

None of the other scores are called out to the class leaving Yuuri's as the only known grade and by default leaving everyone else to guess where they stand compared to him. The pressure is doing horrible things to him.

By the time break is called and everyone has been lead from the room it's all Yuuri can do to keep from being sick, let alone eat the provided light lunch and snacks with everyone else in the cafeteria. As such he finds himself pacing the halls outside the gym they will gather in for the physical ability tests. 

Taking his phone from his pocket Yuuri scrolls through his social media, not that he ever posts anything himself, but it’s an easy way to keep up with family and the handful of celebrities and important people he follows. The sound of footsteps approaching registers but he pays them no mind until the owner stops beside him, leaning over and into his space. 

“Checking up on future partner goals?” The newcomer asks, his hand brushing Yuuri's arm as he motions towards his phone.

“I, um, no I was just…” he fumbles nearly dropping his phone. In the scramble to catch the device his finger lands on a link, opening the news article.

_**Local Police Officer to be Recognized**_ , the top line reads. A photo posted just below is beautifully artistic in its careful focusing. An officer is center shot, a small child cradled protectively against his body in his left arm, the officer's right arm wrapped around a woman's back urging her towards the cameraman; the fire from a vehicle, blurred but recognizable, in the background.

Yuuri eyes the silver haired officer for a heartbeat before locking the phone and looking up to the person currently leaning over his shoulder. 

The officer smirks at him. His blond curls offset by a dark undercut, green eyes catching the light mischievously.

“Christophe Giacometti.” He offers his hand leaning back just a bit. “I'll be assisting with the testing this afternoon.”

“Yuuri, Katsuki Yuuri.” Yuuri responds, handshake firm, filled with a confidence he doesn't necessarily feel.

“Pleased to meet you Yuuri! You can call me Chris. Aren't you a little early?”

Yuuri glances at the doors. “I am, but I didn't have much of an appetite and figured I should warm up a bit before the test, just in case.”

Chris hums appreciatively. “Being prepared is important.” He pauses to wink, “You should always prepare yourself before any kind of exertion.” 

Yuuri feels heat creep into his cheeks. “Yeah,” he looks down at his phone, “wouldn't want to pull a muscle or something.”

Chris chuckles clapping him on the back before mercifully changing the topic “So have you ever met the _Great_ Victor Nikiforov?”

Ok maybe not mercifully. Yuuri shifts the phone in his hand before answering. “Only in passing, I don't find myself in the same city as him very often.” He can't help the twitch of a smile. “Maybe one day though.”

“Who knows, at least if you get here you'll be in the right profession to mingle and rub elbows with him.” The smile Chris flashes Yuuri sends chills up his spine and heat coiling in the pit of his stomach as his treacherous mind imagines what else he wouldn't mind rubbing.

No. Now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts, he has another test to master.

Chris lets him into the gym and Yuuri takes the opportunity to change from his street clothes before finding a spot against the far wall to begin stretching. He moves through his normal warm up routine paying close attention to his quads, hamstrings, and calf muscles; knowing a cramp would be disastrous in the timed run. Standing he braces his hands flat against the wall above his head, lengthening his spine as he rolls his hips, shifting his weight one way, then the other to help loosen his hips and lower back. 

A choking cough and loud thud are quickly followed by a hissed string of foreign words that sound unabashedly like a curse. 

Yuuri spins and locks eyes on Chris who has his head down, tucked in the crook of his arm.

“Chris, are you ok?” He calls crossing the room. He had nearly forgotten the other man was even in the room.

Taking a deep breath Chris looks up and smiles, “Perfect Chéri. Please don't bother with me, I wouldn't want to interrupt your warm up.”

“I was almost done anyways,” Yuuri dismisses, taking in the flush on Chris's cheeks. “Are you sure you're fine? I have some water if you'd like.” 

“Ah, et précieux aussi” Chris mumbles sitting up flashing Yuuri with another devastating smile. 

Minako pulls the doors open interrupting them. “Mr. Katsuki,” she smiles in greeting, “are you always this early?”

“Yes Ma’am, if you’re on time you’re late.” Yurri smiles despite himself.

“I like him. Can we keep him?” Chris asks with a chuckle. “I promise to make sure he’s feed and to take _real_ good care of him.”

“We’ll see how he does on the course before we make any decisions.” She replies patting Yurri on the shoulder as she passes to sit next to Chris. 

Yurri is saved having to reply by a group of applicants as they file in, laughing with an easy banter between each other.

Celestino pulls up the rear a few minutes later, closing the door behind any stragglers. Under his arm is a small stack of manila envelopes. Calling everyone’s attention he waits until the gym is quiet before he speaks.

“Today’s final score will be the average of this morning’s test, the mile and a half run you are about to embark on and the agility course which will follow immediately afterward. This being said, there are a few of you who scored low enough that even perfect scores on both of the remain tests would fail to lift your overall score enough to meet minimal standards.” 

Glancing over the group he takes in all the applicants before he continued. “When I call your name please come forward and collect your packet. Inside you will find your written test and a letter of recommendation should you decide to test again with us when the opportunity arises.”

Yuuri stands with his back against the wall, watching as their group of eighty-five quickly becomes sixty.

“Now.” Minako says with a smile as she rises from her chair beckoning Chris to his feet beside her. “Officer Giacometti will be assisting in the fitness test and agility performance tests. He is one of our top Field Training Officers and will work with some of you if you are assigned to his precinct after completing the academy.” 

Chris eyes the group with a sort of interest one would turn on a class of irritating pre-teens full of attitude you know are going to complain about the upcoming test. “You have twenty minutes to change and stretch.” He begins, “Grab a band and meet me outside at the line when you are ready. The course is marked with cones to help direct the route and there are markings on the concrete along the way. The test starts at eleven thirty sharp.”

Yuuri watches everyone scramble for the changing room but can feel the eyes of the officers on him. Stealing a glance in their direction earns him a knowing smile and wink.

“Yuuri, shall we wait for the rest outside?” Chris asks turning on his heal without waiting for an answer. Snagging two silicone bracelets as he passes the table by the door.

As Yuuri is walking past Chris out the door he hears Celestino speak to Minako “I didn't see Katsuki with any of the others.”

Chris grasps his shoulder as he pauses. “Don't worry about them. Do good on the tests and you'll be a shoe in.”

“They're assessing my ability to work with a team.” Yuuri answers with a small shrug to free his shoulder. “Your shift mates being comfortable enough to trust you have their back is just as important as knowing what you're doing out there.” He pauses to shoot Chris a smile, “If not more so when you're fighting in the middle of hell.”

Chris laughs clapping Yuuri on the back before handing him one of the bracelets and directing them towards the shade from a pair of trees beside the sidewalk. “I'll be sure to tell them you said so when they ask me what I think of you.”

Blanching a little at the comment Yuuri chuckles. For as well as he and Chris had hit it off he hadn't even thought of the fact he was likely being judged and assessed the whole time. 

“Do you run?” Chris asks giving Yuuri a once over.

“Everyday. Usually first thing in the morning.” He answers with a nod as he turns to face the doors, watching as applicants start trickling out.

Chris hums in response but remains silent until all the applicants are gathered around.

“Each bracelet contains a transponder chip which works on as a radio-frequency identification and will accurately time your run.” Chris points to a thick black cord running across the sidewalk connected to a black box. “The computer will record the exact time you cross here and there,” he points to a matching cord and box a little ways behind the group where the finish line is located. “Once everyone has finished we'll scan your tracker to assign your times and appropriate grades.”

Yuuri fiddles with the band, tracing the small bulge where the chip is held. The race bibs for local marathons he runs use the same tech. It’s a nice touch and answers the questions he had about timing for the run.

A sharp clap brings him back to the present. “Let’s get this test underway.” Chris calls with an easy smile as he motions everyone to follow as he starts off at an easy trot.

Yurri smiles despite himself. Of course Chris is taking the run with them, why wouldn’t he? Clicking over to the stopwatch function on his watch Yuuri follows across the start line.

___

Rounding the last corner Yuuri can make out the thin black line reaching across the sidewalk at the bottom of the hill. Glancing over he takes stock of Chris. The man’s shirt has started to cling across his torso, sweat darkening the lines and contours of his chest and back. Yuuri watches just long enough to gauge his breathing. Looking over his shoulder to the few applicants who are close he smirks. “Think you can keep up?” He calls starting down the long hill at a sprint.

The fading sound of Chris’ laugh follows Yuuri down the hill.

After the final times are calculated, he hadn't finished first but his times were still minutes under the minimum required limits and allowed for an easy pass. And barring an injury, the obstacle course would prove a successful venture as well.

“Good job Katsuki” Celestino greets handing him a cold bottle of water. “I don't think anyone has put Giacometti through his paces like that in awhile.” He pauses to clap Chris on his shoulder before passing him the second bottle of water. “Chris,” he asks feigning concern, “are you ok son, you seem a little winded.”

Chris laughs again downing the water in one go before answering. “I asked Minako if we could keep him.” 

Heat creeps across Yuuri's cheeks and he turns away grateful for the flush from the run to hide the added color. “I'm not that special.” He mumbles. Chris’ laugh startles him enough that he turns with a question on his tongue but the other man waves it away.

“I have a friend I believe would think differently Chéri.”

“Did he give the _can we keep him spiel_?” Minako asks walking up to the small group.

“He did.” Celestino chuckles clapping Yuuri on the shoulder again. “I can see the appeal. He has some definite potential.”

Minako smiles and Yuuri feels a flutter of butterflies in his stomach. He can tell by the sparkle in her eyes she has plans for him if he makes the cut.

___

The obstacle course has been laid out across from the gym in the vibrant green park surrounded by the sidewalk used for the run.

Bright orange cones can be seen weaving their way around the expanse leading to the three permanent wood walls directly in the center. The tallest appears to be nearly six foot, give or take a little and the smaller ones on either side a few feet shorter. On the ground beyond the walls is a weighted dummy, the thick canvas skin looking out of place amongst all of the green.

“The test is fairly simple.” Minako explains. “The first part gauges your agility. When you're in a foot chase or fighting a subject, being quick on your feet is a tremendous advantage. It can literally be the difference between life and death. The fence jumps follow immediately. It's a nice dry day so no complaining about slippery shoes.” She pauses to determine everyone's attention level, calling out a few applicants at the back for talking before continuing. 

“After the fences there is another short agility course and then the dummy drag. The dummy weighs a hundred and seventy-five pounds. The only thing that matters is getting it safely out of the line of fire, which for the purpose of this exam, is across the yellow line.”

Celestino nods and steps forward. “Any questions?” He lets silence settle over the group for a moment before continuing. “Giacometti, be a dear and show the kids how it's done.”

Everyone watches on as Chris weaves his way through the maze of cones, effortlessly scales the fences and clears the second agility course. The dummy is gripped under the arms and drug the distance with ease leaving a triumphant Chris standing akimbo on the far side of the yellow line wide grin plastered on his face.

Yuuri catches Minako roll her eyes as she turns towards the group, smile still on her face. “Any volunteers?” She asks, eyes scanning the group as a few hands are raised in response. “Good, step forward and we’ll start forming lines.

Yuuri finds himself buried near the middle and quickly learns that watching everyone make their way through the course isn’t nearly as nerve wrecking as he assumed it would be. The fumbles are greeted by laughter and any good natured teasing is drowned by camaraderie and support in the forms of hoots and cheers when the applicant needs it most.

Finding himself quickly near the head of the of course gives him pause. With a deep breath he squares his shoulders and straightens his back. This is what he’s been training for and anything less than an injury could shove it. Another deep breath and he steps up to the line when it’s his turn with a nod to Minako and Celestino and a wink to Chris who yells across the field. On his mark, Yurri takes off like a shot.

Years of practice turn the agility course into a dance. His footing sure despite the needed crosses and slides. Lining up with the fences he clears the first by simply grabbing the top lip and hoisting himself up and over mid jump. The tallest is cleared by a well timed jump and leveraging himself clear with the grip of his strategically placed foot. The second small fence is cleared as easily as the others, hardly slowing Yuuri’s pace. As soon as his feet were back on the ground he is moving through the cones again before crouching down to snag the dummy. Taking only a second to consider which position would be the easiest for him to drag the dead weight, Yuuri settles on grasping his wrists and locking his arms across its chest. The pull is awkward but doable.

Just as the dummy’s feet clear the yellow line Yuuri collapses backwards, the weight taking him down harder than expected knocking the breath out of him. With a laugh he untangles himself and takes the offered hand from Celestino to stand.

“Tell me kid are you trying to break records and take home medals?”

Yuuri grins as he scratches the back of his head. “I just want to do my best sir.”

Celestino just smiles and claps him on the back.

The remaining applicants make the run and converge around Chris, who seems to befriend all of them with a smile and easy laugh. Yuuri finds himself caught up in the group. Pulled in not by Chris surprisingly but by his own doing. 

When it's all said and done the remaining sixty becomes fifty five and the next class of recruits are left grinning and congratulating each other in the afternoon sun.

Yuuri glances around a little surprised to find himself still in the middle of the group, across the way he catches Chris’ eye. The other man smiles and gives him a thumbs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> et précieux aussi - and precious too
> 
> You can always yell at me in the comments  
> or on Tumblr: [kanzaki19](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19)
> 
> (shh!! the next chapter is all but ready!)


	3. entry and clearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> capturing bad guys has never been so much fun

The dorm at the academy is exactly what Yuuri expects it to be. Furnished for two recruits, elevated twin beds are positioned against the outside walls allowing for storage under the beds instead of separate dressers or wardrobes which would take up valuable floor space in the living/bedroom area. Each recruit has a basic desk alongside their bed. In a bout of good luck Yuuri scored a corner room meaning two windows, both located over the desks, which fills the room with warmth and plenty of light. The attached bathroom is large enough for a shower and single sink with the toilet tucked away on the far side of the shower mostly hidden from view of the door. The water pressure is remarkably good considering the number of dorms in the building. A moderate sized tv is mounted on the wall next to the door and has a low table tucked below it for electronics and what not. The center of the room has been left open, floors bear.

Tossing his duffle bag on the bed furthest bed from the bathroom, Yuuri stakes his claim and begins unpacking the meager collection he’s brought with him. This will be his home for the duration of his schooling and there's no reason not to be as comfortable as possible.

The first week is a blur. Between legal paperwork, general assessments and supply runs for books and uniforms, everyone is kept busy outside of classrooms for the most part. There is still organized physical training every morning and afternoon but the actual class work and training isn't scheduled to begin until the following week.

In this short span of time Yuuri discovers he doesn't have a roommate and quickly falls into a routine. On Sunday afternoon, after hitting the gym despite it being a rest day, he returns to his room and quickly sheds his workout clothes grabbing a towel to take a shower. Dropping his phone on the edge of the sink he turns the volume up and hits play letting the music, chosen earlier, fill the small space.

Once thoroughly scrubbed clean and mostly dried, Yuuri wraps the towel around his waist and steps out into the room, the temperature difference fogging his glasses and causing gooseflesh to cover his exposed skin. He's pulled his glasses off and made it two steps into the room when the room door slams shut startling him.

Startled he turns on the intruder, “What the hell? That door was locked.” How did you get in the obvious question not asked.

Even without his glasses the newcomer is remarkable. He’s not as tall as Yuuri but his slim frame is deceptive in its ability to hide lean corded muscles. His dark hair is mostly hidden beneath a black hat, it's brim turned backwards allowing his expressive grey eyes to catch the natural light from the windows; Yuuri's fairly certain he catches a spark of mischief but ignores it. The young man's rich tan skin, a striking contrast to Yuuri's own, is set off by a dark red shirt with gold designs. The ensemble is rounded off with fitted black pants and shoes.

It's at this point Yuuri remembers himself and his blatant lack of clothes.

“Sorry I heard the shower and figured I could get everything in before you made it out.”

“I wasn’t expecting anyone.” Yuuri counters grabbing the tucked seam of his towel. “Admin said the last of the recruits were already enrolled and on campus.”

“Oh I'm sure they were.” His new roommate(?) answers with a sly grin “I hadn't even applied when I was recruited.”

The calming breath Yuuri takes fails to actually calm so he presses on, “I'm sure it's an amazing story but can it wait 'til after I'm dressed and you're settled in?” He motions towards the scattering of boxes in the center of the room. “I'll just...give me a sec and I'll help if you want?” Yuuri grabs the loose shirt, sweats and underwear he has laid out on his bed before retreating to the bathroom again. What the everloving hell!!

When he emerges he's surprised to see a brightly colored habitat on the open desk. Choosing to ignore it for a moment he crosses to take the latest box from his roommate as he enters from the hall.

“Don't drop that one please!” He calls turning to grab the last item, an unassuming duffel bag, from against the wall near the door. Yuuri looks down suspiciously at the relatively light box in his arms before placing it next to the habitat.

“I'm Yuuri by the way.” He offers, extending his hand.

“Phichit Chulanont!” The young man’s smile is contagious, full of sunshine and just as deceiving. “You're not Katsuki Yuuri are you?!” He continues a beat later.

Yuuri blinks thrown for a second. “I am. Um. Have we met?”

Phichit's eyes grow wide. “No way!” He breaths, “I heard about your exam scores. How am I even this lucky?!” he continues before launching himself at Yuuri and locking his arms around the taller man's neck.

“My exam scores?” Yuuri asks startled by the hug and statement, he pats Phichit on the back, only slightly awkwardly, and is released.

“Chris, the officer who recruited me, was talking about a new recruit and his scores with another officer in the precinct when he brought me in.”

“Giacometti?”

“Yeah!” Phichit exclaims and then adds with a smirk, “He's a looker isn't here?”

Yuuri stammers for a second but is saved from any explanation when Phichit passes him to open the box on the desk and pulls a tiny pet carrier from inside. Chitter from the carrier is instantly heard and a responding coo pulls a laugh from Yuuri.

“Does admin know you've got them?” He asks watching Phichit transfer the fluffy hamsters to the habitat.

“I couldn't leave my babies!”

“Ok, ok.” Yuuri concedes turning to eye the handful of boxes scattered across the floor. “Did you want help?”

Phichit turns hoping up on the desk. “I'm ok. It's not as bad as it looks, most are just bedding.” He smiles, all sunshine again. “Thank you though.” Yuuri nods and climbs onto his bed so he’s out of the way.

“So,” Phichit begins bouncing into the center of his freshly made bed a little while later, turning to face Yuuri. “Any hobbies or interesting preferences?”

Looking up from his phone Yuuri shrugs. “Not really?”

Phichit looks him over, “Are you opposed to hitting the town?” He hums at the face Yuuri pulls. “Nothing extravagant! Just you know, us hanging out, getting to know each other better since we'll be rooming together for the next few months!”

Yuuri makes a noise of indecision in the back of his throat and glances towards the desk where his copies of various textbooks and other course material sits. “Not during the week though.”

“Of course not!” Phichit beams, “It's not like we're a couple of famous international college students living it up half a world from home.” he adds with a wink.

___

Monday morning dawns with a 5k run and shower before the sun ever breaks the horizon. Phichit is just waking when Yuuri steps from the bathroom.

“Did you leave earlier?” He mumbles sitting up, the covers pooling around his waist; sleep shirt crooked and slipping from a shoulder.

“For my morning run, yeah.” Yuuri answers as he rubs the towel in his hair again.

“But we're going to have PT this afternoon?”

Yuuri shrugs in response crossing to his desk. “Old habits and what not.”

Phichit is quiet for a moment watching Yuuri pack his bag for the day. “Will you wake me to go with you in the morning?”

The request surprises Yuuri, “You'd give up sleep to go running with me?” He asks looking over his shoulder.

“Why wouldn't I?” Phichit shrugs, “It'll be good for me and give us more time to hang out.”

“You're not just trying to befriend me for my scores are you?” Yuuri asks, a smile stretching across his face negating the accusation.

The matching grin Phichit wears is just as mischievous. “Never hurts to know the smart kids.”

Yuuri laughs, honest and true, “Well this smart kid is leaving in twenty minutes so I'd advise you shower and get ready if you’re heading in with me.”

___

Academy classes are a mix of textbook and procedure learning, personal protection and fighting (with demonstrations from the instructor and a promise of more hands on interactions to follow in the following week or so), and legal classes that are heavy and require far more notes than some recruits were expecting.

Yuuri knows he is a diligent note taker and has little issues with the first tests and quizzes. It’s the interactions, particularly standing before everyone, that holds him back. Phichit of course is a godsend who sees far more than most give him credit for and starts tutoring Yuuri on presentation, helping him come out of his comfort zone.

Today is not one of those days.

Today the teacher has promised the class a surprise, which Yuuri has questioned since the first hint during the second day of classes a week ago, and is now making good on his words. Yuuri hates being right but intuition is a thing he’s gotten fairly good at listening to lately.

Phichit takes one look at the looping script scrawled across the board and groans; pressing his forehead to the desk.

 _“Mace Run!”_ It reads.

“The handwriting is different.” Yuuri comments, ignoring the obvious concerns of the class in general. “Does this mean Leroy is out or that whatever hell we’re about to embark on will be done in front of visitors?”

“Yuuri~” Phichit whines, turning his head - cheek now pressed against the cool surface - to glare at his new, quickly becoming, best friend without actually lifting his head from the desk.

“I won’t apologize for my different set of priorities.” Yuuri says with a shrug. “We all knew this was coming at some point or another. Therefore I choose to worry about an actual unknown.”

“Ok, ok.” Phichit sighs sitting up and looking at the board again. “Yeah that is definitely not Leroy’s or his wife’s handwriting.” he pauses pulling his phone out to snap a picture.

Yuuri raises an eyebrow in question as he turns to face his roommate fully. “What are you doing?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“Cross referencing the image.” Phichit begins as an explanation. “I’ve seen this style before.”

Yuuri chuckles, “You’re going to make an extraordinary detective one day.” Phichit just grins.

Leroy enters a few minutes later calling the class to order, then promptly ushering them out and down to the back lot.

The practice and training lot is a mock-up city street complete with a general store, a few homes and a gas station on the corner (which has fully functioning pumps used by official city vehicles). An ambulance currently sits under the awning, medics milling about near the open back doors or with the small group of officers who have come out to observe the day’s festivities.

“Small group it is.” Mutters Yuuri, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve to offset his nerves.

Phichit groans and tilts his head back to stare at the sky. “They have cameras.”

Fighting a chuckle, Yuuri pats him on his shoulder. “Of course they do, it's the _Mace Run_ , the pictures will be in the class book and probably on the academy website.”

“All my years of beautiful social media pictures for nothing!” The younger man laments hiding his face in his hands.

Yuuri laughs softly and pats the smaller man on the shoulder.

After stopping to speak to Minako and Celestino, Leroy motions for everyone to follow him towards the medics where a table has been set up and holds vests with kevlar panels for each of the recruits.

“I wonder if Chris is on duty?” Phichit asks skimming the crowd as he straps the vest over his uniform and securing the velcro so it fits snug but doesn’t restrict movement.

“I never did get the full story of your recruitment but I'm starting to think there might be more to it than a passing glance from a tall blonde with an undercut.” The startled look on Phichit's face is answer enough. “It’s ok, I won’t judge you.”

Phichit watches Yuuri for a second, then smirks. “You’ve got a crush on someone too.” He pauses. “Who is it? I won’t judge!”

Heat washes across Yuuri’s checks and he curses his lack of control but holds firm and doesn’t take the bait by answering, instead focusing on getting his vest on properly.

They make a striking pair in full duty uniforms. The dark color complements both of their skin tones while the vests cut their silhouettes in sharp lines, adding contoured mass to their chests and making their waists appear trimmer by default.

“Aww come on!” Phichit’s whispered groan is pleading and carries the promise of a full inquiry once they return to their room.

“Concentrate Phichit, or you’ll end up with extra laps tonight.” Yuuri chides with a laugh as he watches Phichit’s shoulders slump in temporary resignation.

Leroy clears his throat and taps his clipboard to get everyone’s attention before speaking. “Today’s exercise is to establish what information you have retained and the class base line. Everyone will be broken into teams of two and given a building to clear. Each group will have to complete a list of tasks which include finding any illegal items, identifiable by a stripe of red tape, stashed away inside and locating and safely detaining any victims or the bad guys.”

The smirk the instructor wears is unsettling and Yuuri groans. “We’re about to get our asses handed to us by trained officers who were told to make it memorable.”

Phichit steps closer to Yuuri’s side and smiles. “It’s a good thing we aren’t scared of a little action huh?” He whispers with a nudge from his elbow.

Leroy waves the recruits closer still so they can hear. “The instructions are simple.” He begins, “Attempt contact at the door, enter the location, clear the building while taking an initial inventory of any weapons or drugs and detain anyone inside.”

“What kind of force can we use?” Michele Crispino asks, his violet eyes flashing, “Is there a specific scenario we are working through?” The young man beside him, Seung-gil Lee, sighs.

“The scenario doesn’t matter. Mr. Lee how should an officer approach and search a building with possible suspects inside?” Leroy asks turning everyone’s attention to the stoic, dark haired recruit.

“An officer should approach the situation with heightened alert and concern until the building is cleared and all suspects have been detained. The amount of force used should be congruent to the immediate situation. If deadly force isn’t needed, don’t use it.”

“Very good Lee.” Leroy says scribbling on his clipboard. “Alright, every department usually differs slightly concerning vehicle and officer approach but the general rule is to park down from the location so you have eyes on any potential suspects before they have eyes on you. That being said,” He says sweeping his arm out behind him, “pick a partner and make your way to a squad car. I’ll be by with your scavenger list shortly.”

The recruits divide up making their way down the main street and position themselves on the street side of a squad car parked in front of a building. Glancing around it’s clear who still has a nervous tick, Yuuri knows which group he falls in and deliberately grasps the vest near the neck to keep his hands busy.

Leroy approaches with a printed transcript from an actual call handled during the last six months. “In here is everything the arriving officers were offered before making scene.” He begins in explanation, “Once you have completed your sweep, I’ll compare your results with the actual results and grade you accordingly. Your radio channel is listed at the top of the page.” He adds handing them both radios.

“The board said Mace Run?” Phichit carefully prompts.

“It’s still early Chulanont. Plenty of time for excitement.”

Yuuri laughs as the instructor moves on to the next team. “I mean it was worth a try right?”

“Hush Katsuki!” Phichit snaps rounding on the taller man, “You don’t have a social image to uphold. Think of all my followers!”

Yuuri laughs harder, reading over the heavily redacted transcript before handing it to Phichit.

“There really isn’t anything on this.” He blinks at the paper before looking up. “At least we know there is an active disturbance, too bad no one could say if the male was still on location.”

Yuuri shrugs, “Assume he’s there until it’s proven he isn't.”

The officers who had previously been gathered near the ambulance make their way down the center to stand watch over the teams and monitor any radio traffic. They also allow for extra eyes to ensure proper grading and to capture the experience on film.

“Alright!” Leroy yells, “Wait for the mark to make entry.”

His voice echoes in the silence that follows before the sharp squawk from a cruiser parked near the medics breaks the mood sending everyone into motion.

Phichit and Yuuri nod at each other before circling the car. “Body cam?” Phichit asks flipping the switch to a small box affixed to his vest.

“Body cam.” Yuuri confirms with a smile turning his on as well.

They approach the building calmly, unlike some of the others who are racing up the walk or have already barged in. Yuuri steps up to the door directly, Phichit taking a place to the opposite side of the window near the entrance, leaving enough room for Yuuri to step free of the door. Rapping the wooden door with the knuckles of his hand Yuuri announces their presence and clearly stating they are with the police department. No verbal answer comes, instead they are greeted with the distinct sound of something large striking the ground inside.

Yuuri reaches for his radio calling to dispatch and waiting for their acknowledgment before relaying the information. He tries announcing themselves again while checking the handle, which he finds unlocked.

“Dispatch,” he begins, “myself and Chulanont will be making entry.” Phichit nods, a wide grin of excitement plastered on his face.

Yuuri pulls his taser from it's holster, swinging the door open and stepping inside. “Metro PD.” He yells into the empty room. “Step out with your hands up.” Movement through a doorway sets them into motion. 

The game is on.

The two dive for the opening, one on each side. Phichit takes the lead, the door is flush with the wall on his side and Yuuri is blind to any dangers beyond, so he can cross into the open area of the next room.

“Hands where I can see them.” He commands spotting the masked male against the back wall as soon as he enters. Yuuri is immediately a step behind him.

“I'm innocent.” The man cries stepping towards them.

“Stop.” Phichit barks. “On your knees, hands behind your head, ankles crossed.”

“I'm innocent.” The suspect repeats as he sinks to the floor, following the orders. The smirk is easily heard even behind the full faced mask. “The guy you're looking for went that way!” He continues even as Phichit takes his wrists and guides them around to cuff his hands behind his back and announcing one in custody to dispatch.

Phichit looks across to Yuuri, his grip still on the cuffs. “It isn't ideal, but if you want to proceed I'll stand watch in here, he isn't going anywhere for the moment.”

Yuuri debates for a moment. Technically there should be two officers during the sweep but without knowing the severity of the situation he can't justify waiting for backup (that he knows isn't coming) and chance a suspect getting away.

“If he so much as twitches wrong call for me and I'll be right back.”

“Same.” Phichit answers watching his partner disappear around the corner into the next room.

Yuuri catches the second subject as he ducks his head back from the next threshold he was peeking around and crosses to the adjacent wall out of sight.

“Metro PD.” He calls again, “Come out with your hands up and force will not be used against you.”

“You're nothing but a dirty Pig.” The second suspect answers mockingly. “If you want me come and get me!”

Yuuri counts his breaths, listening to the other man scuff his shoe for a second before spinning into the room, training taser in hand, aimed ready for use. He is instantly greeted by a masked man a little taller than himself holding a can of mace just under head height no more than three meters from him.

Yuuri uses his forward momentum to step into the man's space and knock the small can from his grasp. Behind the mask Yuuri watches his blue-green eyes widen in surprise and the fire of competition rage to life.

The man ducks under Yuuri's arm as the recruit makes to apprehend him and steps towards the fallen can. Yuuri stumbles forward half a step into the now empty space before catching himself and diving for the suspect.

The attack catches the man off guard, his grasping hand knocking the pepper spray further from them as he falls to the ground on his back with Yuuri kneeling over his legs, both wrists quickly clasped together against his chest locked in one of Yuuri’s. The man wrestles an arm free and tries to wrench the taser from Yuuri's grasp.

“Stop resisting.” Yuuri's voice is calm but commanding.

The suspect sits up startling Yuuri, who is knocked to the side, but instead of trying to over power the officer the suspect twists in an attempt to get his feet under himself to make a break for the door.

Yuuri recovers, jamming his weapon back in it's holster as he launches himself up (the strong muscles in his thighs proving to be useful). Wrapping one arm around the suspect’s firm stomach and pressing the other across his shoulder blades, Yuuri lets his body weight force the man back to the ground where he quickly straddles him and tugs his arms behind his back to cuff them in place.

The sound of their heavy breathing fills the now quiet room.

After a second of stillness Yuuri breaks the silence to notify dispatch before speaking to the subject: “Will you cooperate?”

The suspect shakes his head yes, before speaking the affirmation, voice thick and still winded from the exertion and adrenaline.

Standing Yuuri reaches down grasping the man's arm and shoulder to help guide him to his feet. He takes a second to survey the room before turning towards the door leading to where his partner is waiting with the other suspect. Inside, kneeling with Phichit standing guard, Yuuri finds Chris, de-masked but still cuffed.

“I frisked him to make sure he wasn't armed.” Phichit answers, fighting a bit of a grin. "Found some drugs in his pocket."

Yuuri smiles before tugging his suspect to a stop. “Legs apart.” He nudges the inside of the other’s shoe with his booted foot to reinforce the statement, waiting the moment for the man to respond accordingly before patting him down to ensure he is unarmed. His search produces a gun, two knives, as well as a rod loosely tied to his leg at the ankle which would have been fairly easy to access in a fight. Reaching for the hood Yuuri pulls it free.

And nearly dies.

Standing cuffed and completely in his control is none other than Victor Nikiforov, latest recipient of the medal of bravery and idol whom Yuuri has been aspiring to imitate since the first time Nikiforov made global headlines in his native home of St Petersburg. As a rookie Nikiforov had dove into the melting waters of the Neva to rescue a pedestrian who had slipped from a bridge. He had credited good timing and extra laps at the pool for the rescue, earning himself a reputation of selfless bravery that had followed him in his career.

“Have a seat for me,” Yuuri orders swallowing his heart which has leapt into his throat, “And cross your ankles.” He adds before turning to Phichit, “I'll watch these two if you'll secure the weapons and other items in the next room for me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mercy! So all the big players are here now!!
> 
> Chapter 4 is in the works.  
> You can yell at me in the comments or here: [kanzaki19](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19)


	4. adventures in suit shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> invites, foot chases and upcoming events. life is anything but normal theses days!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) for beta reading this (all) chapter! If you get a chance check out her stuff, it's well worth the read.
> 
> all the love Kimmy!!

The sound of Phichit’s laughter is only slightly muffled by the pillow Yuuri has pressed over his head. It doesn’t help that Phichit is sprawled across his back pinning him to the bed he threw himself on as soon as he was able to tear himself away from class at the end of the day.

“Come on Yuuri!!” Phichit gasps between breaths, “It wasn’t that bad. We detained the bad guy, found all the illegal items and were the only team not to be maced!”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” came the mumbled response from under the pillow still securely held in place, “Highest score and all that nonsense too.”

Phichit sits up and pokes Yuuri in the side. “Our marks aren’t nonsense.” His voice holds a sharp enough edge to pull Yuuri out from his hiding space. “Our marks will help ensure our success.”

Ducking back under the pillow for a second Yuuri sighs before setting up. “I know, I know.” he says pulling his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on them. “I’m just sulking.”

“Why are you sulking? You literally had _Victor Nikiforov_ in cuffs!”

“That's just it!” Yuuri starts, “What kind of first impression could I have possibly made?”

Phichit eyes his roommate for a moment. “That's actually a really good question Yuuri.” His tone is cautious but the undercurrent in unmistakable, “I heard the scuffle but couldn’t see it, how did you capture the _Great Nikiforov_?” He laughs at Yuuri’s drawn out groan. “You can tell me now or I can wait for the album to come out and let the pictures speak for themselves.”

Yuuri’s head snaps up, “Pictures?!” He squeaks, obviously forgetting the multiple officers wandering around with cameras in hand, not to mention the professional photographer he had been teasing Phichit about before they went in.

The shrug Phichit offers is the definition of nonchalance. “The camera guy wandered in when I was frisking Chris and snapped a few shots of us, then you and Victor through the door before leaving. He said something about _priceless_ so I’m more than a bit intrigued.”

Blinking a few times Yuuri thinks back on the events trying to place them all in order again. His brain had basically melted after pulling the mask free of _Victor Nikiforov’s_ (!) head. The sight of the man in what were unmistakably tactical pants, tight fitting in all the right places; that he then had to pat down for weapons and contraband, was very distracting. “I just hope I don’t look like a dork in the pictures. I don’t think I could stand making a fool of myself, even if he was masked.” He buries his face again, causing the last bit to be muffled

“I don’t think that’ll be an issue, it all happened quick and you two sounded pretty well matched.”

“He was able to overpower and slip out from under me though.” Yuuri protests. “What if he had been an actual suspect.”

“Out...from under you?” Phichit interrupts, the sparkle in his eye evident in his voice.

“The first time I tackled him he sat up and knocked me off balance.” 

A beat of silence fills the room and Yuuri glances up, catching the mischievous grin spread across Phichit’s face. 

“Oh god!” Yuuri groans again, burying his face in his hands, “I bet they got a picture of me straddling _Victor Nikiforov_!”

Phichit’s howling laughter can be heard clear down the hall. The following yelp and thud from being pushed off the bed is only marginally quieter.

___

Days bleed into weeks and the recruits quickly find themselves neck deep in multiple personal protection training classes (along with classroom courses) that span an array of styles and techniques with the added promise of full gear rucks on Fridays.

What little pudge clinging to Yuuri quickly melts away with the extra exertion and leaves him longing for the soothing waters of his family’s hot springs.

“I'll make you a deal.” Yuuri offers one evening as both he and Phichit lie unmoving on their beds after scrubbing clean of the day's dirt and grime. “The first chance we get to take any time off together, I'm taking you home to my parents place to ruin your idea of rest and relaxation.”

“Deal” Phichit responds without moving, “We’ll shake on it later.”

Yuuri chuckles then groans as Phichit's phone lights up, his ringtone filling their room.

“You're closer.” Phichit whines, “You answer it.”

Mumbling that he owes him, Yuuri drags the phone from the desk and swipes without looking at the caller ID. “Chulanont’s phone, Katsuki speaking.”

“Ah mon ami!” Chris’ smooth voice greets, startling him. “You are actually the one I was needing to speak with.” He continues without acknowledging Yuuri's reaction.

“Me?” Yuuri answers sitting up, his brain circling the myriad of things he could have done wrong to warrant a call from Chris. He glances up catching Phichit's eye as the other man sits up as well.

“Yes, you love. I have found myself in the possession of an extra ticket to an event next weekend and want to know if you would like to attend? Phichit can come as well as your plus one.” He pauses, and Yuuri does not miss the smile when he speaks again, “He was such a good catch, I'm glad the two of you have hit it off so well.”

“What kind of event?” Yuuri asks, not acknowledging Chris last statement and wary of the impending answer.

Chris laughs, “Ah, Yuuri, it’s like you don’t trust me.” Yuuri shifts in the silence before the senior officer continues. “It’s just a small gathering with a few officials. There will be dinner and champagne.”

“Um…” Yuuri looks over to Phichit who is eyeing him excitedly. “Yeah, that…that sounds fun. We’d love to.”

“Excellent!” Chris exclaims a single clap echoing through the receiver. “A nice suit would be preferred, doesn’t have to be anything too fancy.”

Yuuri groans as the line clicks off before he has a chance to protest.

“Yuuri~” Phichit whines, bouncing a little on his bed, “Who was that?”

“You’re boyfriend wants us to go to a party next weekend.” 

“Is _your_ boyfriend going to be there too?” Phichet beams not missing a beat.

Yuuri twists around collapsing on his back, sprawling across his bed, “I don’t even have a suit with me.”

That actually turns out to be the wrong thing to say as Yuuri soon learns, finding himself smothered beneath his eager roommate who is giddy and effervescent at the notion of suit shopping with Yuuri.

\---

Saturday dawns with Yuuri being pulled from the comfort of his bed far too early and being ushered downtown by a still bubbly Phichit.

“You don’t understand,” Yuuri complains being pulled into the main entrance of the mall by the hand, fingers laced with the other man’s. “I can just swing by and pick my other suit up from the storage unit.” He can’t help but laugh at the horrified look shot at him.

“I absolutely will not allow you to go to any event in a moldy old suit.”

“Hey!” Yuuri chuckles trying his damnedest, and mostly failing, not to laugh. “It isn’t moldy! And it’s a classic cut, so style won’t be an issue.”

Phichit stops and spins to face his companion. The crowds filter around them undeterred by their abrupt stop. 

“I know you think any old suit will be fine, but hear me out.” He starts, taking a step towards Yuuri, closing the gap between them. “But I promise,” he continued leaning in close, “that suit will hang off of you and be a complete travesty. Not only for fashion, but for you.” 

He pauses to smile and gauge Yuuri’s reaction before finishing. “You are a killer Katsuki and if you plan on slaying anyone at this event you’ll need a new suit.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes but can't hide the smirk as he's pulled forward into the depths of mall.

After hours of indecision Phichit coaxes Yuuri into one last store that promises a variety of suits for all shapes and sizes. 

A staff member meets them at the door and, after a few questions, leads the two young men to a far corner of the store and quickly pulls different style suits for comparison. A few favorite cuts are determined and color options discussed. Within thirty minutes both have a small collection to try on, and within the next hour they each have three complete ensembles selected and marked for tailoring and later purchase.

“This tie is hideous.” Yuuri grumbles, letting the fine material slip between his fingers.

“It offsets all the black Yuuri, leave it alone.”

Yuuri turns to Phichit, brandishing the tie, as the cashier starts totaling the new shoes and other accessories for purchase, “Flowers Phichit. This tie has flowers on it.”

“Roses,” Phichit clarifies, taking the tie from the other man with a smile and passing it to the cashier, “Roses are fine and the color complements your eyes.”

“My whole first paycheck is going on suits.” Yuuri tries to reason. “Why do I need three suits again? It’s only one event.”

“It’s fine, you can continue,” Phichit addressed the cashier with a sunny smile before answering Yuuri: “Because the first is for the event and the others are for the dates you’re going to get afterwards.”

Yuuri closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning away from Phichit. “I’m sorry Ma’am,” He bows his head to the cashier. “Thank you for assisting us, Chelsea.” He adds noting the name on her tag.

“It’s no problem.” Chelsea smiles, bright and genuine. “Will there be anything else?”

“Just these items for now, thank you.” Yuuri smiles back, pulling his wallet from his pocket, flipping it open to retrieve his card.

“Oh! Hang on you get a discount.” She strikes a few keys and they watch, in amazement, as the total is cut nearly in half. “There.” She beams.

“What was the discount for?” Yuuri asks, because his brain is an idiot sometimes and just won’t accept the discount without a reason.

“First Responders receive a discount for shopping with us.” Chelsea motions towards his wallet where his academy badge sits in the clear sleeve, “We also have special days where the discount is combined with other specials for a deeper price cut.”

“Do you have a list of days?” Phichit asks, all sunshine again, “It's our first time here and we'd love to spread the word to others and of course come back more often ourselves.”

“Sure, give me just a second.” Chelsea pulls a flyer from under the register, then pauses to look over her shoulder for a second. “Actually, you just missed one of the special days, Thursday, but I bet my supervisor would let me give you the discount anyways since it's your first time in the shop.”

One page over the intercom, a five minute wait, thirty seconds explaining the situation, and another two minutes of Phichit being adorably sweet and clever with his words, earns them an additional twenty percent discount for a grand total of sixty-five percent off.

“How do you even do that?!” Yuuri asks once they are far enough from the store that he isn't worried they'll be over heard by any of the employees.

“It's a skill. I have a bit of a silver tongue and have mastered getting what I want with it.”

Yuuri laughs despite himself, and can't help but file that line away for use when a certain green eyed officer is near.

“You know,” Phichit says looking at his watch after exiting the mall complex, “We should stop for lunch. Splurge a little.”

“What do you call dropping a deposit on three tailored suits and purchasing all the _‘obviously needed’_ extra accessories for said suits first thing on a Saturday morning?” Yuuri asks air quoting Phichit's excuse for all the small things jostling in the bags they are currently toting around.

“An investment.” He replies, coolly looping his arm in Yuuri's and leading him deeper downtown. “There’s a nice bistro with outdoor seating not far from here,” He turns his phone so Yuuri can see the screen, “it even has healthy lunch options.”

Yuuri scrolls a bit, reading the first few reviews. “It sounds ok, lead the way.”

The bistro is bustling when they arrive and after a short wait they are showed to a table in the corner of the gated area out front.

Their conversation is full of everything and nothing as they pass the time people watching and waiting for food, only slowing slightly after it arrives. 

As they are deciding on whether or not to split a dessert a cry is heard from down the street, a lady exclaiming her purse has been snatched from her.

Yuuri and Phichit's attention is drawn instantly in her direction and both are out of their seats a second later. Yuuri spots the thief, weaving in and out of the crowd, and is over the railing before he can think better of it. “Check on her,” he calls over his shoulder, “make sure someone is on the way.”

Phichit nods, taking off in the opposite direction to check on the victim.

The thief is quick and knows the streets and byways of the busy metropolis, ducking down a narrow alley barely wide enough for delivery trucks, and ignoring Yuuri's command to stop. Yuuri follows him down and out on to the next street, spotting him as he slows to a walk trying to blend in with the crowd. 

“You in the black jacket, stop!” Yuuri tries again only for the man, boy really, to take off once more.

With a shake of his head, Yuuri follows deciding force is needed if he's going to detain the thief. Offhandedly the thought that he's probably already in trouble springs to life and firmly takes root.

Ah well, c'est la vie, he decides closing in on the suspect and tackling him to the ground.

“Hold still and stop struggling.” He orders, pulling the man's arms behind him, kneeling over his upper legs, to hold him in place until he can figure out a way to restrain him long enough to relay his location to the local dispatch.

“You're hurting my arms!” The suspect cries trying to wiggle free.

“You should have thought of the consequences before you stole the purse.” Yuuri counters.

A smooth voice cuts in from behind them, “Well, seems I've missed all the action.” 

It's all Yuuri can do to not react. ‘This is all Phichit's fault.’ he thinks to himself.

“Do you apprehend all the suspects like this? You could make it your signature move Katsuki.”

Suppressing the shiver that runs through his body, Yuuri leans his head back, eyes closed in resignation before answering: “Are you going to help Nikiforov or just stand there and watch?”

The answering chuckle would have short circuited his brain, probably will later when he thinks back on everything, but at the moment his concentration is centered on the still struggling thief and leaves no real room for emotional processing.

Victor locks the first cuff just above Yuuri's grip as he speaks again, smile still in place, “You're being detained under the assumption of theft with force...”

Yuuri stands and steps back giving Victor the space he needs to do his job, gathering the dropped purse before following them back towards the restaurant, where they find Phichit and the victim at their previously vacated table speaking with other officers.

“Your purse ma'am.” He offers once the victim has positively identified the suspect and the officers turn to place the male in the squad car.

“Thank you both so much!” The lady sniffles. “You boys were so brave, putting yourself in danger for me. I just don't know how I can repay you.” 

“Just promise to be aware of your surroundings and pay it forward by being kind to someone else.” Phichit smiles, gently squeezing her shoulder.

The woman's smile is still watery when she laughs softly, “Have you ever thought of becoming officers yourselves? You would be a great asset to the city.”

“They're in the academy actually!” Victor's voice is too bright as he grips both of the recruit’s shoulders. “Top of their class if I remember correctly.”

“How would you even know that?” Yuuri asks, because of course his brain to mouth filter is non-existent at the moment.

“I have friends.” Victor grins.

“Oh! That's wonderful! You both are going to do so well!” She turns her attention to Victor, “Who would I send letters of accommodation for them to?”

The proud look Victor gives them before leading the now eager woman to his car for a card and email information is unmistakable.

“I'm glad he found you.” Phichit beams.

“This is all your fault.” Yuuri grouches shooting a sideways glare at him.

“Me?” Phichit breathes far too innocent, pressing his hand to his chest dramatically, “I didn't steal her purse!” 

Yuuri clamps his hand across his eyes leaning his head back again for a second.

“You should work on your tics.” Phichit says seriously, the grin obvious.

Yuuri shakes his head dropping his hand, “You're going to be the death of me.”

Phichit's laugh is a balm too Yuuri's nerves. “If I can manage it, I promise to always be the best partner you could wish for… apart from Nikiforov of course.”

“The death of me.” Yuuri repeats looking over to the silver haired officer, he groans a few moments later.

Phichit hums in acknowledgment following Yuuri's gaze. “What's wrong?” He asks when he doesn't see anything out of place.

“I'm forgetting something.” He pauses chewing his bottom lip for a second. “It hit me after Chris invited us, I just can’t remember what it is.”

The mischievous grin is back, “Maybe your boyfriend will be there too.” Phichit bounces voice a little too loud for the area.

“Phichit!” Yuuri growls, shushing him.

“Whose boyfriend?” Victor asks joining them again as the other officer pulls away with the thief.

“Phichit's.” Yuuri answers quickly, praying the flush from his cheeks can still be written off from all the running earlier, and knowing he isn’t fooling _anyone_.

“No fair Yuuri,” Phichit protests. “No one has asked anyone, so it isn't even official yet.”

Victor chuckles before turning his attention to Yuuri. “You didn't hurt yourself, did you?”

“Huh?” Yuuri asks confused. Real intelligent Yuuri.

Victor smirks gesturing to Yuuri's knee and the now torn fabric of his jeans.

With an aggregated huff Yuuri shakes his head, “No, I'm sure it's just a scratch if anything, I hadn't even realized it.” he pauses to sigh, “They were my favorite pair though.”

“They still look nice on you,” There’s a spark in Victor's eyes as he speaks. “Swap your runners for Converse and pair it with a rock band shirt and you're good to go.”

Yuuri blinks at him for a second before shaking his head with a laugh. “Yeah that sounds like it would look good together for a night out on the town.”

Victor beams, smile heart shaped, “Welp back to work. Have a good day gentlemen.” 

Yuuri watches Victor leave, ignoring Phichit and his shit-eating grin. “So dessert?” He asks instead. Phichet laughs and pulls Yuuri back inside the bistro. 

Lunch ends up is free. Their money refused because of their good deed.

___

The week is a whirlwind of activity filled with classes, quizzes and suit fittings, the later of which evenly breaks up the week and gives Phichit and Yuuri the needed moments to breath in the middle of it all.

Tuesday’s fitting goes well and Thursday evening closes with both Phichit and Yuuri marvelling over their new suits hanging on the room side of the bathroom door. 

Friday is a disaster bookended by killer workouts that once again leaves the roommates exhausted and sprawling on their beds, sleep a welcome relief with wishes of sweet dreams and wishes for tomorrow's festivities.

Saturday… Saturday starts way too early with Phichit far too bubbly. The afternoon brings a flurry of activity and Yuuri sits back to watch the Thai man flit around the room in lounge wear. With a shake off his head he laughs at the stark difference between the recruit who literally kicked in a door yesterday and the dancer who now graces their room.

Phichit grins, performing a tight spin then skipping back to the bathroom. “By the way I’m doing your liner!” He calls.

“My what?” Yuuri questions, fidgeting with the brush as he reaches for the polish and his dress shoes, “Oh my God, Phichit no, you're going to be the death of me!” he adds, head snapping towards the bathroom.

“And you'll be the death of everyone there so I don't see the issue.” 

Phichit’s grin is a bit more wicked than Yuuri would prefer but he trust him so he shakes his head, mumbling his permission and shoos the boy fully into the bathroom to finish. At this rate they'll end up being late.

Taking a chance while the door is shut, Yuuri dresses in everything but his dress shirt and jacket. No need in getting makeup on either.

By the time Phichit clears out of the bathroom he is fully dressed with just enough glam to highlight his best features without drawing attention to the makeup itself. Directing Yuuri to his desk chair Phichit gets to work.

A message from Chris dings on Phichit's phone a short time later, “He says don't worry about transportation, a car has been hired.” Phichit reads pausing between eyes while his trusting, obedient friend sits with his eyes closed in his desk chair.

“Why does that bother me?” Yuuri asks.

“Most things bother you, why would this be different?” Phichit counters laying his phone down again. “Did you ever figure out what you were forgetting that's been bugging you since the invite last week?”

“I haven't,” Yuuri confesses, “but I know it's big.”

___

Transportation turns out to be a nondescript black Lincoln Continental, shined to a high gloss that looks sorely out of place in front of the dorms. 

Yuuri, however, finds it hard to care about what others might think when his companion for the evening is giddy with excitement and he can't help but feel that same excitement in bubbling in his own veins.

The drive downtown is uneventful with the exception of usually traffic and as the pull up in front of a beautifully lit hotel a valet helps them from the car with a smile and well wishes.

They spot Chris at the top of the stairs, his smile bright and eyes only for Phichit as they ascend.

“Breathtaking, the both of you!” He greets. “I can already tell tonight is going to be unforgettable.” Motioning towards the doors he grins, “Shall we?”

Phichit laughs stepping around and thanking the attendant holding the door open.

Yuuri follows behind, escorted by Chris who has slipped his hand to Yuuri's back as they pass through the glass doors.

The lobby is beautiful, filled with glimmering lights reflecting from shined surfaces. The main ballroom is directly across from the entrance, the reception desk set in the center of elevator banks against the outside wall. A bar is tucked against the front of the building leading into a restaurant, the clinking of utensils on fine plates barely noticeable over the conversations filling the lobby and spilling down the long hall dividing the space and leading to smaller meeting rooms and bathrooms along the way.

Phichit's gasp and a chuckle from Chris draws Yuuri's attention back to the group, turning to question their reactions his voice fails, words dying on his tongue.

Smiling near the open doors of the ballroom stands Victor in full Class A dress uniform, his silver hair a sharp contrast to the deep black of his suit. His previous medals and ribbons polished and pinned in place, the jacket slightly fitted, just accenting his trim waist. The pants are slim cut and fit just tight enough to hint at the definition and solid muscle hidden beneath.

Yuuri's mouth goes dry and his subconscious congratulates himself for not gapping with his jaw on the floor. The spark in Phichit's eyes causes him to step back, stopped instantly by Chris's warm hand.

“Not trying to run are your Chéri?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can yell at me in the comments or on tumblr [kanzaki19](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19)
> 
> next chapter: what is an event honoring victor without dancing?


	5. awards and accolades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to start by thanking everyone who came back for more police boys. These last few weeks have been a trial in strength and I can say with complete honesty that through it all, writing this chapter has been my anchor (and slight stress) giving me purpose and direction. I knew this time of year would prove to be a challenge but I never actually imagined it would interrupt my writing like it did. For that I apologize. I won’t promise not to delay again but I will promise not to abandon this story and to do my best to not disappear on you guys again.
> 
> A big heartfelt thank you to everyone who has been there for me since the last update. Your support and words of love, and wisdom were some of the only things that got me through some of it.
> 
> Big hugs to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) for being an amazing beta and catching all my autocorrect fails and missing commas
> 
> On that note, have a bit of ~~mostly~~ fluffy times!

___

The noise of the lobby falls away and Yuuri feels his heart skip a beat, the first sign of a panic attack. It's ridiculous that this would be what triggered it. It's probably just the irrational fear that he can’t get away. Chris doesn’t know any better. Chris is just trying to help, it was all in jest. Both he and Phichit know of Yuuri’s crush on Victor. Phichit probably helped coordinate the whole thing from the start (if he's being completely honest about it).

Glancing around the lobby Yuuri steps free of Chris’s hand, “I’ll be right back.” He says with a smile that should mask any curiosity.

“Don’t run off too far Chéri.” Chris winks watching Yuuri retreat across the expanse to the hall leading behind the bar and restaurant. 

Phichit's gaze follows Yuuri until he is out of sight. “I’m gonna go make sure he’s ok.” He says squeezing Chris’s arm. “Don’t let the festivities start without us.”

“It wouldn’t be a party without you. I’ll just keep the Man-of-the-Hour company until you return.”

Phichit finds Yuuri at the sinks in the bathrooms at the far end of the hall, bent at the waist with his forehead pressed to the cool stone countertop. Taking in the open stalls, Phichit shuts and locks the door.

“I would tease about the sanitary condition of the counter but I’m not sure if that would help at the moment.” He whispers, gently running a hand down Yuuri's spine. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Give me a minute, then tell me it'll all be alright?”

The response is more of a question than a statement and Phichit decides to act instead of wait.

“Hey, you know what?.” Phichit tugs gently on Yuuri's shoulder pulling him up right without any resistance. “This is just like getting in front of the class. It's all just a performance.” pausing he smooths Yuuri’s jacket at the shoulders, “and if this has anything to do with Tall-Pale-and-Handsome then I've got news for you: that boat has sailed, and if you're worried about awkward first encounters,” he pauses to smile and make sure Yuuri is listening, “you’ve had the man in cuffs, Yuuri. If he hasn't started falling for you, it isn't gonna happen.” With a shake of his head he tuts to himself reaching into his pocket to pull a small travel packet free, “How did I let you get out of the house with your hair like this?” he asks efficiently breaking the seal, squeezing it into his hand and reaching for Yuuri’s head.

“What the hell?” Yuuri asks pulling back, anxiety completely forgotten and replaced by the irrational fear that Phichit was about to put god knows what (lube it’s probably lube!) in his hair.

Phichit blinks at him for a second, smile spreading across his face, far too sunny for the situation.

“Come on Katsuki,” he says motioning towards the little green container discarded near the sink, “you’ve known me for two months what do you think it is?”

Yuuri bites his lip to keep from smirking, “How the hell should I know Chulanont. There are only so many things that size guys carry to a party and hair gel usually isn’t one of them.”

Phichit rolls his eyes with a laugh and shrug. “The TSA are assholes.”

“What does that even have to do with this conversation?”

“All the other hair gel containers are too large to fly with. Besides, how do you think I maintain my perfect coif? Magic?”

“The TSA.” Yuuri repeats with a laugh. “I really can’t believe you sometimes.” he says taking a still shaky breath and closing his eyes. “Do your worst Peach.”

Phichit spends all of two minutes coaxing Yuuri’s hair back and out of his eyes. Stepping back he lets out a low whistle. “Why don’t you wear your hair like this more often? No one would ever stand a chance!”

Yuuri smirks, lopsided and a touch flirtatious, remembering the last time he gelled his hair back. “I wear it like this occasionally but not usually to anything work related.”

“This isn’t work related.” Phichit helpfully points out turning for the door. “You up to rejoining the crowds?” He asks hesitating to unlock the door.

Yuuri takes another deep breath and gives himself a once over in the mirror. The deep, dark blue of his suit catches the light casting the material in shades of rich black and midnight blue with the movement and shifting. The lapels lay flush, freshly pressed, framing the suit and offsetting the black silk of his button down shirt. The alterations to the jacket accentuate his narrow waist, drawing attention to his trim frame. With his hair pushed back, his eyes look brighter, the rich mahogany catching more light, and the choice to swap contacts for glasses proves to have been the correct one.

Squaring his shoulders, Yuuri nods. “Yeah I’m ready. Let’s get back to the party.”

Chris is waiting near the ballroom doors. His back turned to the hall while he gestures wildly in conversation with Victor who notices the duo first. By the widening of his clear blue eyes, as he locks on to Yuuri, it's evident there are still things that surprise him.

Yuuri grins, despite himself. Who would have thought he would be the one to capture Victor’s attention, especially if Phichit is to be believed (and since he still hasn’t let Yuuri live down either of his limited interactions with the senior officer it’s hard not to believe him). Standing a little taller as he catches a chuckle from Chris before he turns, eyes going wide also.

“You can only have one Yuuri, no need to hog all the pretty officers.” Phichit teases, bumping shoulders.

“Honestly I only _want_ one.” Yuuri smiles. “Besides I’m fairly certain the taller one has fully moved on from me.”

“Chéri!” Chris calls, finding his voice first. “I was just telling Victor here that he should volunteer at the Academy more often.”

Yuuri smiles, letting his eyes drift from Victor to Chris. “It isn’t really volunteering if he’s on shift and getting paid though, is it?”

“I’ll have you know I’d do it for free.” Victor starts before snapping his mouth shut.

Phichit laughs, bright and true. “Oh Nikiforov you’re almost as transparent as Katsuki here.”

Chris grins and opens his mouth to speak but the look Victor shoots him leaves him laughing instead. Catching his breath Chris turns to Phichit and Yuuri, “Come on and I’ll show you to our table.”

Which ends up being close to the front, and coincidentally Victor’s table. It is also directly next to the table hosting the top brass of the Police department and the Mayor.

According to the placard, Yuuri will be seated behind the Chief and although he knows there isn’t anything to be worried about, he’s still a little awe inspired at the thought of casually brushing shoulders with Chief Baranovskaya.

Victor leaves to speak with a few city officials and other award recipients, the masses slowly starting to filter in, as they busy themselves with small talk.

Yuuri spots the Chief across the way and watches her mingle with the crowd for a moment before speaking to Victor. There is a sense of familiarity, evident in their close proximity and the way Victor’s face lights up at something said. Baranovskaya laughs at his response and with a shake of her head starts towards her table. 

Yuuri stands, catching Chris and Phichit’s attention and breaking their quiet conversation, but pays them no mind as he turns to pull the chair out for her. “Good evening Chief Baranovskaya.” He greets with a smile.

The look Baranovskaya gives as she takes in his appearance is only slightly eased by the tight smile and thanks she gives for the kind gesture. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of formally meeting yet.” She addresses casting her gaze to Chris before glancing back to Phichit and Yuuri. “You must be the new recruits Giacometti has been going on about since the Academy started.”

Yuuri’s pretty sure his heart is going to beat out of his chest and the night hasn’t even gotten started yet. “Yuuri Katsuki, Ma’am.” He offers his hand to shake and is pleasantly surprised at the tight grip offered in return. “And this is Phichit Chulanont.” He motions to Phichit who has stood and offers his hand also. 

“I hope whatever Officer Giacometti has said has painted us in a good light.” Phichit greets brightly.

Chief Baranovskaya laughs, “Dear, everything has been beyond charming, but I’m of a personal belief that his opinions are a bit skewed and he would find it difficult to criticize either of you.”

“That’s not true.” Chris objects shaking the Chief’s hand, “I’ve got a whole list of things I plan on bringing up with Leroy next time I see him concerning these two.”

“Really?” She asks quirking an elegantly shaped eyebrow, challenging his statement.

“What? I do.” He feigns shock, hand over his heart, “For starters I’m going to bring up Katsuki’s need to get into a foot chase with a theft suspect, in civilian clothing, while blatantly ignoring the fact that he isn't a sworn officer yet.”

Lilia’s eyes snap back to Yuuri and he feels the blood drain from his face. “Victor mentioned that the other day.”

With his heart in his throat, Yuuri steels himself against the screaming anxiety in his head “We were there when it occurred and watched the suspect run by. I couldn’t sit by and let him get away if I believed I could stop him.”

Lilia looks Yuuri over once more, judging him where he stands. The critical look is just shy of ice as she manages to look down her nose at him despite the height difference. “We’ll need to have a talk about protocols and proper procedures for an officer out of uniform in the near future Mr. Katsuki.”

“Y-yes ma’am.” He stammers, chills racing down his spine.

“Not tonight though.” She reassures, “Tonight is a celebration.” she finishes watching Victor and the other officers in dress uniform make their way back to their assigned tables.

___

The tables fill quickly, noise level rising with the body count until the lights over the tables dim. The host is a boisterous young man, who introduces himself as Community Relations Officer Hisashi Morooka, before launching into the narrative and schedule of the evening. 

A coordinated group of waiters and waitresses slip amongst the tables distributing cool water and sparkling champagne to each attendee. Yuuri takes a sip of the bubbling liquid, setting it down afterwards. Catching a glance from Phichit he shrugs before turning his attention back to the host. 

After the Invocation and greetings Morooka introduces the Chief. Watching her take the stage is like watching a Queen ascend to her throne. Her confidence is immediately recognizable but as she turns and takes in the room full of officers and their significant others, the love and pride she holds for each person shines bright.

She welcomes everyone, greeting a few of the older officers by name, a touch of teasing slipping into her prose before continuing on topic. Her speech is everything the public would expect, hard facts and high praise. But then it isn’t; she talks about issues that need addressing and actions she wants to see started over the next year and practiced for more to come.

Through it all Yuuri can still feel the love underlining her content. Each word chosen to emphasize the department’s strengths by showing ways for growth. This was the reason he had chosen this city instead of going home. There was a sense of family here, a comradery unlike most, with a healthy bit of competition to keep everyone on their toes and encourage them to work hard and be their best.

“...I expect only the best out of each of you and I know you can deliver.” Lilia continues, drawing her speech to a close, “I know I’ve said it before, and I will continue to say it even after I retire: There isn’t a single action or mission I would ask any of you to engage in that I do not have full faith you are fully capable of accomplishing. Each of you are like family, annoying sometimes, asking a million questions,” she pauses to laugh, “and always asking for new toys, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Silence falls over the room before the wave of applause from a standing ovation thunders out into the hall, surely even heard in the rooms above.

“Enough, enough.” She chides with a smile after a few moments. “Let us hear from Mayor Karpisek and then we can have awards and dinner before dessert.” She pauses to let the room fall back to silence, “Josef, if you would?”

The wait staff takes the opportunity to circle back around picking up empty glasses and depositing full ones in their place. Yuuri turns down a second, still nursing his, Phichit snags a fourth one; offering it to Yuuri anyways.

Mayor Karpisek is an older man, bright eyes framed by glasses. His smile is easy but restrained, a man who has seen the stress of office but still loves his job. Karpisek’s speech touches on similar points as Chief Baranovskaya’s, but only the praising points, shying away from criticism. He sees the growth of the city and the subsequent need to grow the force and is excited for the new era being ushered in at the Academy.

“But enough of my boring muttering, Officer Morooka if you would please!” Karpisek closes motioning the host back on stage.

Each recipient is to be presented with an etched glass award, a printed certificate and a few minutes to say their thanks.

The audience claps and hoops and hollers as Morooka works his way through the list of award winners: Rookie, Officer, Special assignment Officer, Sworn Supervisor, Civilian of the Year (which is deceiving in that it's just a civilian employee and not an actual civilian, civilian) and a whole list of other mundane basic awards before finally getting to the big awards - and, if anyone was being honest, the real reason Yuuri wanted to attend. 

“This year,” Morooka starts as the last recipient makes her way off stage, a dispatcher - the winner of the Civilian award. “There are four officers.” He emphasizes the word with a hint of smirk; Phichit glances at Yuuri quirking an eyebrow, “who have gone above and beyond the call of duty. Their actions not only noteworthy but in two cases heroic and warrant proper recognition.”

Applause fills the room again before tapering off with the raising of a hand from Morooka.

“The first, a Life Saving Award, is for the quick actions of an officer who immediately began CPR on a female who collapsed in a local park where he was having lunch. This officer stepped in to keep her alive until EMS made scene and transported her.” He pauses to glance around the room, as if to find the officer in question, a smile splitting his face when he finds him, “Please give a round of applause to Georgi Popovich. Georgi, if you would come up and say a few words.” Morooka motions for him to ascend, joining the applause when he stands, starting toward the front.

“Thank you, thank you.” Georgi grins accepting the glass award.

“Isn’t Georgi’s ex the one he saved?” Chris asks Victor in a mostly stage whisper as the mentioned man starts his speech on stage.

Victor sighs with a nod off his head. “Unfortunately yes, it's all he's been going on about for weeks now.”

“... I can't thank her enough for the time we had. It was some of the happiest of my life.”

Phichit turns to Chris with a curious question, “I thought he saved her?”

Chris's answering smirk is wicked, honed over months of dealing with drama. “Popovich believes in love at first sight and hasn't come to terms with sweet Anya’s break up.”

Yuuri casts a quick glance over his shoulder before turning towards the conversation. “Did he think they would be together like some Sleeping Beauty fairytale? What of her old life? That would have made him Maleficent, stealing her away.”

Victor's muffled laugh is masked with a cough and a quick gulp of water, which isn't the best idea and only leads to more. The quiet throat clearing from the Chief is mortifying.

They’re all going to get fired at this rate so Yuuri quickly turns to face forward, away from the distraction that is Victor in uniform with his long legs crossed at the knee, a blush tinting the tips of his ears.

On stage Morooka wrestles the mic away from Georgi, escorting him to the edge of the stage and taking control of the evening once more.

“Our next award is going to an officer who has only been a member of our family for six months and has already proven on more than one occurrence that he is worth his weight in kevlar. Give a round of applause, if you would, for Medal of Valor recipient Victor Nikiforov. 

“With the vehicle burning around him, Victor freed a small child from the backseat, then turned his focus on a young mother, saving her as well. Because of Victor's fearless actions neither mother nor child were injured in what surely would have been a fatal situation.” Morooka motions Victor to the stage, “Victor, if you would?”

Victor takes the stage like he's meant to be there, and maybe in a past life he was. It isn’t hard to imagine him on a podium accepting awards and medals, especially with the diverse collection currently pinned to his chest.

“Thank you Hisashi.” Victor greets taking the other man’s hand in a firm shake, a radiant smile in place that doesn’t seem to fully meet his eyes. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“Please a few words for the masses.” Morooka motions to the audience.

Victor turns, smile still in place. “When I transferred in I never imagined I would be here tonight in any capacity except out there with everyone else looking up.” He pauses, smile slipping a little, “It appears my ability to find myself in the middle of dangerous excitement has followed me though.” He laughs softly casting his eyes to the ceiling.

“I was promised a change of scenery and a bit slower pace when I signed. I laughed at the time knowing this job doesn't know how to be _quiet_ and _calm_ ” He emphasizes the words with a grin acknowledging the groan from the dispatchers scattered around the room, “and that the excitement was one of the reasons I joined all those years ago. 

“It would be a lie to say I wasn't looking for a change of scenery though. Sometimes people find themselves in a place where personal growth is limited and a change is necessary.

“Of course those aren't the main reasons I joined or why I'm here, that’s reserved for saving people and changing lives. There's something to be said about knowing you can make a difference in the world that can immediately be seen and felt not only on the community level, but family and individual level also.

“As such, pulling those beautiful young women from that car was definitely a cornerstone in my foundation here. I’ll never forget them and by default never be forgotten by them.” Pausing again, his eyes sweep across the room falling on the table he vacated. As if watching the sun break free of stormy clouds Victor's smile morphs, lighting up his entire face, “I’ve met so many amazing people since joining and I can honestly say coming here was one of the best decisions of my life and I can't wait to see what the future holds.”

Yuuri holds his breath. The sight of Victor on stage accepting such a prestigious honor is one thing but to have his bright blue eyes locked on a nobody recruit like Yuuri is something completely different. To everyone else it can easily be explained away as Victor gazing at his empty chair, but the heat in Yuuri's cheeks speak volumes and betrays his interpretation. The anxious part of his brain is screaming to dismiss the idea but when Yuuri catches the recognition and answering smile to his own, there is no denying where Victor is looking.

Applause erupts in the room again, failing to break whatever spell is being woven, and for once Yuuri is grateful.

“Now, a special note,” Morooka begins as Victor exits the stage. “In attendance tonight are a few new members of our department whom I have not personally had the honor of meeting but the buzz around the office is that they are extraordinary cadets and show great promise as future officers.” He smiles down at the table as Victor sits. “If you could come up on stage Mr Chulanont, Mr. Katsuki, I would feel privileged to introduce you to the rest of the department.” 

Yuuri throws a terrified look at Phichit, who has already put on his winning smile. “It’s all just a show.” He reminds pushing his chair back to stand. Yuuri follows his lead, smoothing his suit jacket before looking up to meet the host’s eyes as they make their way to the stage.

“These two ambitious recruits were out last weekend and managed to apprehend a theft suspect immediately after the incident occurred.” Morooka starts as they make their way on stage. “The grateful citizen went that day to the station and spoke to the Lieutenant on duty and was able to start the process for Commendations from the Chief.” 

Morooka beams shaking hands with both men. “The formal awards are still being processed but I do have the privilege of giving you these.” 

Reaching under the podium Morooka produces framed copies of the beautifully handwritten letter from the citizen: Gratefully in your debt, Margret Johnson, it reads at the bottom, and a pair of rich blue embossed award folders. Safely hidden inside are awards printed on heavy stock, high quality paper, declaring Phichit and Yuuri as recipients of the Chief's Commendation for their courage and quick actions which lead to the protection of property, and apprehension of a criminal.

“Yuuri!” Phichit grins looking up at the taller man, his bright smile radiant as always.

The tension breaks and Yuuri laughs. “My sister is going to give me so much shit for this.” He says without thinking, the mic catches his voice clearly and he blushes, covering his face with his hand. “Sorry Chief Baranovskaya.” He apologizes, smiling towards her, catching a matching smile gracing her lips. He fails not looking towards Victor and isn't surprised to see a bright smile lighting his face. Chris is still chuckling, the ass.

The audience laughs for a moment before Morooka reigns everyone in, “What were you two thinking when you heard Ms. Johnson Saturday morning?”

Yuuri glances at Phichit who nods for him to answer. “When Ms. Johnson yelled for help, my first instinct was to do just that, and when the suspect ran by with her purse I knew I could catch him.” Yuuri shrugs at a loss for words for a moment. “Besides what good does it do to learn the proper techniques to take down criminals if we don’t use them?”

Morooka laughs, turning to Phichit, “Is he always like this?”

Phichit bumps shoulders with Yuuri, “He’s insufferable! Up before dawn to run an extra 5k before classes and nose in the books until bedtime at night.” his smile shifts the depths of his fondness shining through, “I wouldn’t have him any other way. He has definitely been a massive motivator for me.”

“We both push each other to be our best.” Yuuri interrupts, trying to divert the topic from himself. “It’s easier to challenge yourself when you know you have someone to call you on your bs and vise versa.”

Chuckles echo across the audience, “Leroy advises that you two are top of the class. Was there a particular motivation to become an officer for either of you?” Morooka asks.

“I was drawn to the hunt.” Phichit answers glancing across the room. “I've always loved puzzles and this gives me the chance to put my critical thinking skills to a practical use.”

“What about you Yuuri?” Morooka prompts.

“Me?” Yuuri questions, his focus shifting inward at the thought. “I...I just want a chance to make the world a safer place. To do whatever I can to insure people are held responsible for their actions, both good and bad, and help keep the bad guys off the streets.” He pauses and catches Victor watching him intently. “You have to be the change you want to see in the world, right? …If you don't help, who will?”

“Mercy, Katsuki, you might be too good for us all.” Morooka speaks into the silence that follows.

“No,” Yuuri shakes his head, “I'm just a dime-a-dozen recruit trying not to fail the Academy. Trust me, I'm only human like everyone else.”

___

Dinner is a boisterous affair, full of laughter and conversations. As it winds down through dessert Chris and Victor take turns regaling the small group with tales of each other’s less than brilliant moments while Phichit and Yuuri counter with tales from the academy.

“And Crispino, bless him,” Phichit says with a laugh, “just wasn’t getting it so Katsuki here, reaches over and takes the training manual from him.”

“I figured it had to be written in Kanji or something for as much trouble as he was having.” Yuuri laughs taking another drink of champagne, emptying his glass.

“Another round of drinks?” Chris asks. Phichit and Victor agree, Yuuri declines.

“Come on Yuuri enjoy the night,” Phichit argues standing to follow Chris, “we have a driver to get us back to the dorms or where ever we want to go afterwards!” 

Yuuri regards him with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” Phichit asks feigning innocence as he turns to walk away, “Maybe we don’t go home tonight.” Chris’s laughter rings through the room.

“He’s insufferable sometimes.” Yuuri groans turning back around in his seat.

“I think they make a cute couple.” Victor chuckles watching Chris throw his arm over Phichit’s shoulder while they both laugh at something.

Yuuri turns to find them across the room making no effort to hurry or return while talking amongst themselves. “They would be a force to be reckoned with that’s for sure.” He turns back to Victor, “And someone save us if they start plotting pranks or grand ideas!”

Victor lifts his hand, finger pressed to his bottom lip, thinking for a moment, “They would definitely need handlers,” He pauses to grin at Yuuri, “Maybe a second power couple to keep them in check?” his question is punctuated with a wink.

Yuuri’s blush is instant. With his heart in his throat he allows himself to panic for two breaths before locking on to a bit of courage he knows wouldn’t exist without the three (or four) glasses of champagne and smirks. “Who ever they are they’d have to have some pretty quick wit to keep up with Phichit. He’s sharp at his young age.”

“Hmm...They’d have to be quick on their feet too. Chris is hard to keep up with when he gets on a roll.” Victor adds with a grin of his own.

“I’ve got enough stamina to outlast him on the streets or the dance floor.” Yuuri shrugs. Victor’s unexpected gasp pulls a laugh from him, “Surprised Nikiforov? Do I not look like the dancing type.”

The light blush staining the bridge of Victor’s nose is almost too much for Yuuri but he finds himself saved from considering, or tempted to ask, its meaning by Phichit’s excited “whoop” as the DJ finally makes it to the party.

Morooka’s laugh as he introduces the entertainment for the evening is evidence that he’s already fond of the recruit. But really none of them stood a chance against the natural force that is Phichit Chulanont.

“I brought you a glass anyways.” Phichit announces sliding back into his seat. “Did you see the DJ?” 

Victor nods, “He’s the upstart everyone has been trying to get into their clubs for a few months. A family friend of mine is friends with him.”

“Good grief do you have connections everywhere?” Yuuri asks with a smirk, rolling his eyes.

Victor just shrugs, grin of his own in place.

Phichit’s eyes dance with ill-disguised mischief as he watches the banter before interrupting. “We should go put in a few early requests.”

“Is he always like this?” Chris asks pulling his seat out again and motioning towards Phichit as he bounces a little in place.

“Only when he’s excited.” Yuuri answers “Which is most of the time.” He adds with a chuckle.

“Yuuri!” Phichit feigns duress, covering his eyes with his arm dramatically, “You wound me!”

“I speak only the truth.” Yuuri laughs taking a drink from the new glass of champagne before adding, “I swear you’re going to get me drunk and fired Peach.”

“I would do no such thing! I would either keep an eye on you or leave you in capable hands.” He pauses cutting a quick glance to Victor and back, “Which would probably be the more enjoyable option if i do say so myself.”

Yuuri stands, “And on that note! … lets go get those requests in.” He smiles over to Chris and Victor, “Any requests?”

“Something upbeat.” 

“Anything you can dance to.” 

Chris and Victor speak at the same time, looking at each other for a heartbeat before laughing.

Yuuri pulls Phichit away from the table making a beeline for the doors to the lobby first. “I can’t do this.” He finally says as answer, shutting the door to a conference room down the hall that hadn’t been locked.

“Can’t do what?” Phichit asks, knowing the response. “Can’t hold a conversation with Silverlocks? Can’t banter like old friends? Can’t flirt like schoolyard crushes? How blind are you exactly; cause you are clearly missing something that’s fairly obvious to most.”

“I’m nearsighted, not blind, and I get that the night has been going spectacularly. What worries me is what happens next?” Yuuri rolls his eyes as Phichit laughs but presses on, “Yeah this sounds like a grade school meltdown but hear me out -- he outranks me, and with the way my damn luck goes he’ll be my trainer at some point too. Not all agencies allow interoffice relationships, let alone any that could be interpreted as abuse of rank or, all forbid, look like someone trying to gain favors by sleeping with the boss!” Yuuri has worked himself up, the stress evident the longer he speaks.

Phichit watches Yuuri take a shuddering breath, giving him a second before speaking. “You won't know until you ask, first of all.” He says, voice calm. “Secondly, there isn't anything wrong with making friends, no one is labeling anything here. It's not even a date. And lastly the whole end of your argument is trash and you know it.”

Yuuri laughs pressing his forehead against the shorter man’s shoulder. “What the hell am I going to do Peach? I haven’t even known him long enough to want to be with him this bad.”

Phichit laughs, patting Yuuri on the back. “Do what you’re heart tells you is right, and don’t regret anything that makes you happy.”

Yuuri straightens, reaching to rub his eye but stops at the pointed look Phichit throws him. “How did I get so lucky to have you as a roommate?”

“The universe loves us.” Phichit says with a smile grabbing Yuuri’s hand. “Now come on we’ve got a couple of boys waiting to be swept off their feet.”

By the time the two of them make it back, the music is already spilling from the doors, not quite the heavy bass of a night club, but surprisingly not what could have been deemed _normal_ for a function such as this. A few couples have made it to the dance floor set up directly in front of the stage, the space still shy of half full. 

After making a few requests each, laughing over some of the more obscure choices, they circle back to the table and the other half of their party in higher spirits.

“Got a bit worried you were having cold feet Katsuki.”

Yuuri raises a brow at the statement, “Wow Chris, didn’t know this was that kind of life changing get-together.” The words are out of his mouth before he has a chance to filter them and the heat that creeps into his cheeks is surly noticeable but he holds his ground. 

Possible implications and all.

“Oh there’s dancing at both,” Chris says with a smile as he stands. “Care to show me a few moves? I heard you think you’ve got more stamina than I do.”

Phichit laughs at the obvious look Yuuri throws at Victor and the helpless shrug he receives in answer. “Come on Katsuki, let's show the old guys how to dance!”

___

Time flies after that. One song bleeding into another. Their laughter as contagious as their energy. By the time the night starts to finally wind down, everyone who attended the ceremony has spent at least one song on the dance floor. Even Lilia and Yakov spent time dancing to some of the more classical selections.

The four collapse into chairs, jackets abandoned over the back, ties loose and hanging haphazardly. Half empty water glasses the only thing still littering their table.

“I can’t do it.” Chris moans leaning his head against the table. “The two of you are going to be the death of us!”

“It’ll be a good death though.” Victor grumbles resting his cheek against the table also.

Yuuri’s eyes go wide and Phichit barks a laugh. “So what are we gonna do now? The night is still young.”

Chris sits up, looking around for a second. “I think the DJ is headed to a local club if you wanted to follow the good remixes?”

“Wait, I thought we were dying the good death?” Victor asks sitting up with a shake of his head.

Chris winks, “I’m not that old.”

“So cruel.” Victor whines resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “I suppose you’ll steal Yuuri away too huh. Leave me alone with dear Makka like always?”

“I’ll let you keep Yuuri as long as you promise not to break him.” Phichit laughs bumping his shoulder against Yuuri’s and the man in question covers his face and groans.

“Deal!”

Yuuri shouldn’t have peeked. The bright smile and light in Victor’s eyes is too much.

“Wait don’t I get a say in this?” Yuuri protests after a second.

Chris grins, “Wanna come with us?”

“Not really, a little peace and quiet sound beautiful.” Yuuri laughs, “And who says Phichit wants to go clubbing anyways?”

“I do!” Phichit smirks, “I can’t get you to go clubbing with me, I gotta get my fix somewhere.”

“You wound me!” Yuuri argues knowing he’s going to lose but not conceding at first. The look he receives is proof enough. “Ok, ok. I promise when we graduate you can drag me to a club.”

“Any club?” Phichit asks eyes wide with excitement.

“Any club.” Yuuri repeats.

“Deal!” Phichit grins standing and shrugging into his jacket. “You two don't do anything illegal and be home by midnight Sunday.” turning his attention to Chris he adds: “Shall we continue the night’s festivities?”

Laughing Chris follows Phichit's lead. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do twice loves.” 

“That's a pretty short list.” Victor laughs.

“Exactly!” Chris calls over his shoulder with a wave.

Yuuri watches them go for a second before turning back to Victor.

“I can have the driver drop you off if you don't want to stay out any longer.” Victor offers with a half shrug.

The offer throws Yuuri for a second. Had he been reading it wrong? Had all the easy flirting been in his head? “I...I mean if you're tired of my company I'm ok with that, I guess.” He finally says slowly turning his glass round and round on the table.

“What?” Victor asks, confusion painting the single word in different tones.

“I'm not opposed to hanging out longer!” Yuuri quickly continues. “I like your company,” he breaks eye contact before adding, “it's actually pretty easy being around you.”

The quiet stretches just long enough that Yuuri caves and looks up, he finds Victor watching him with a soft smile chin resting in his hand again. “What?” He asks, because even this silence isn't uncomfortable but he wants to know, really know, what Victor is thinking.

He smiles, “I like your company too.” Standing he slides back into his jacket, the medals jingling in the movement. “If you're ok with it, I don't live far from here. Maybe swing by and change into something more comfortable, I've got some sweats you can wear? Either way, I know an all night dinner that won't blink an eye at a couple of sharp dressed men enjoying a massive plate of smothered, unhealthy fries.”

Yuuri rolls his shirt sleeves as he pushes his chair out. “I'll have to drop the suit off for cleaning but I really don't want to chance explaining odd stains,” he folds the jacket over his arm as he stands, giving Victor a once over, “You really think you've got something that'll fit me?”

Victor shrugs, “I'm sure it'll all be a bit loose, but they'll still look good on you.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, “Flattery gets you nowhere Nikiforov.”

“Actually flattery has gotten me plenty of things in my life.” Victor counters sweeping his arm out towards the doors.

“Well flattery gets you nowhere with me.” Yuuri grins, starting for the doors.

“That sounds like a challenge Katsuki.”

“Mercy, save them, we're going to be one hell of a team.” Yuuri adds with a laugh as they cross the lobby and head out into the night.


	6. hook ups and take downs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, to everyone who has returned:  
> Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> Second, shout out to those who helped get this chapter to where it is today.  
> I owe every one of you lunch, or souvenirs, or something!
> 
> Also, sorry for disappearing for so long. It’s been one hell of a month.  
> But my big stressor is out of the way so now I can concentrate on fun stuff again!!
> 
> Big thanks to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) for being awesome and beta reading this at the last minute  
> check out her AMAZING STORIES they are worth the binge!

___

Sunday finds Phichit asleep on the couch, jacket and collared shirt lost to the depths of the apartment. The sun peeking through the window covers makes it’s slow march across the wood floor, passing like molasses in January.

Shuffling feet break through his sleep, pulling a groan and mumbled, “Come on Yuuri can't we sleep in for once?” from him. A chuckle that is decidedly _not_ Yuuri's helps rouse him the rest of the way.

“I'll let you sleep all day if it means you spend the night too.” 

Pulling the blanket, that had been draped over him at some point in the wee hours of the morning over his head, Phichit grumbles again. “Can't, it's a school night. Yuuri would have my ass.”

Chris's reply is muffled by the fridge door as he leans in to dig out breakfast supplies; Phichit has a decent idea what it is and chooses not to ask for clarification. “What time is it anyways?” He tries instead, safe under the blanket (warmth still coloring his cheeks and ears).

“Ten thirty. I was thinking fruit or a poached egg on toast. What do you think?”

Phichit curls up a little, making room at the end of the couch, “Sounds fine. Do you have any orange juice?”

“I do, tomato juice would be a better choice to combat the hangover.” Phichit makes a non-committal sound. “I'll bring it over for us.” Chris replies.

After a few minutes of prep and cook time Chris makes his way to the living room, patting Phichit on the hip as he sits a small bowl of diced fruit on the low table. “Rise and shine sunshine. I brought you breakfast in bed.” 

“The bed would have probably been more comfortable.” Phichit says between a yawn as he sits up with a stretch.

“I offered.” Chris grins with a shrug.

Dragging the blanket over his shoulders Phichit shifts to sit cross-legged on the couch. “Maybe next time. Besides I don’t even know where my pants are, so I’m pretty sure I’d have been uncomfortable wherever I slept.”

Chris finishes setting out the food before retrieving their glasses of juice. “Well if there’s ever a next time we’ll have to see.” He says suggestively with a wink.

Rolling his eyes, Phichit snags his plate to examine the food artfully dished in the center. The toast is perfectly browned, egg cooked just enough that the bright yellow yolk promises to be thick but runny; sliced and sauteed mushrooms round out the meal.

Taking the offered fork Phichit cuts in, breaking the yolk and portioning off a small bite of everything for sampling. The moan is probably a little over the top but the color flooding Chris's cheeks is well worth it, the shade complimenting the dressing robe he’s currently wearing.

“Mercy.” He groans leaning back on the couch and draping an arm across his eyes; peeking out at the corner. “ _You_ will obviously be the death of me.”

Phichit grins and licks his lips, bumping shoulders with Chris before digging in.

Breakfast continues in relative quiet; each enjoying the other's company as much as the food. Gathering the dishes, they split washing duty; putting everything back in its place after being dried.

“I think I could get used to this.” Phichit declares storing away the last pan.

“Being all domestic with me?” Chris asks circling the smaller man to wipe the counter on the other side, his hand tracing across his narrow waist.

“No, being out of the dorms and in a real home.” His eyes betray the humor, “I didn't realize how much I missed having a separate living space and kitchen.”

Chris looks across his eat-in kitchen to the living room that rounds out the open concept layout of his apartment. “Yeah,” he says with a chuckle, gently knocking his hip against Phichit’s, “separate living space. That’s a good excuse.”

Phichit shrugs as he turns on the heel of his foot, making his way to the bathroom. “Found my pants!” He calls triumphantly leaning around the door frame a moment after entering, “Mind if I snag a shirt and take a quick shower?”

“Not at all Chéri, make yourself at home.”

The clock is pushing three when Phichit makes it back to the dorm. The first thing he notices is the expertly made beds (which were a mess last night) and that Yuuri isn’t there; he’ll hold his judgement for later. He contemplates swapping the borrowed clothes for his own but decides against it, settling in with a textbook to wait instead.

The sound of Yuuri fumbling at the door gives Phichit a chance to scramble to his desk chair, spinning it around to face the door just as it swings open. He waits for Yuuri to look up, arms crossed over his chest like an angry, concerned mother. Their eyes meet and he asks: “And where have you been?”

Yuuri smirks, rolling his eyes as he pushes the door shut with his foot. “I had a lovely time…” he says, seemingly to no one, “We’ll have to do it again sometime…” He laughs before adding, “I’ll have to let you go, I think I’m about to get _mother henned_ … You too, bye.” He deposits two bags on the table and digs his phone out to disconnect the call, taking his time setting out all the to-go containers before addressing the obvious elephant in the room.

Leaning his hip against the wall he asks, “Did you have fun last night?”

“Of course I did, but I'm not the one waltzing in at nine in the afternoon.” Phichit deflects.

“You could ‘cause you can, so you do.” Yuuri says with a shrug as he pushes himself off the wall, grin never leaving his face. “Come on, I brought sushi.”

 

___

 

Monday morning’s run is wet, a summer storm pushing in half way through their course. Although refreshing, it promises muggy weather if the system stalls.

News of their Commendation spreads like wildfire after Leroy's congratulations when he enters the classroom. It's met with mixed reviews, Crispino grumbles a bit to whoever will listen. 

Law review bleeds into a pop quiz before lunch, followed by combat training for the second half of the day. Tuesday holds Forensics and Crime Scene Investigation. Wednesday is more Combat and Response Protocol. Thursday: Drug Classification, Testing and Containment. 

Friday they test.

June passes in a rinse and repeat cycle. The tests and quizzes harder still than the last, each certificate obtained followed by another course building off the previous. By the middle of July the summer heat makes the morning trek across campus just as bad as the trek back to the dorms in the afternoon. 

Laps in the pool at the local Rec Center quickly replace morning jogs, and with the early hours they are blessed with an empty pool besides themselves. Once Phichit mentions it to Chris, on one of their (now frequent) after shift phone calls, the duo find themselves joined by their crushes when schedules allow. Laps usually dissolve into horseplay and on one occasion they are warned by the lifeguard on duty that if they don't chill out, he will be forced to put them out, or worse - call the cops.

The guard is not amused by any of their laughter. 

The last week of August hits with the anger and sting of a wasp, having been proceeded with late night cram sessions running into early morning tests. Their ever present list of certificates and training is thankfully dwindling its way to completion.

“We’re working exclusively on combat and take down for the next two weeks.” Leroy announces Monday. “Everyone is at a place where the pass rate should be nearly one hundred percent when you test out.”

 _Working on_ turns out to be a euphemism for Hell Week and Hell Week 2.0. Everyone is pushed to their limits inside the gym as well as in the simulated city. The hand to hand portions proving slightly dangerous as the sessions progress, ending with achey, sore muscles and more than a few bruised egos by the end of day thirteen.

“I don’t want to know what tomorrow holds.” Phichit sighs thursday night, sprawled across his bed staring at the ceiling.

“It’ll be just like the rest of the week, except condensed into a single event.” Yuuri answers without looking up from Downward Dog. “If we’re lucky,” he adds shifting his right leg straight up in the air, “We’ll get to test against each other and not some other class.” A faint _click_ sounds and Yuuri glances over to his roommate who isn’t even hiding the act of taking pictures.

Phichit laughs at the other man's annoyed expression, typing away on his phone, “We both know that’s not going to be the case. We’re not that lucky.”

“You’re sending that to Chris aren’t you?” Yuuri asks, moving back to proper form and resigning himself to the inevitable.

The grin Phichit casts can only be described as mischievous, if not bordering on evil, “Why would I send it to Chris?”

Yuuri topples in his haste to get upright. “Phichit NO!”

“Phichit, yes!” The traitorous heathen cackles making a show of hitting send.

 

___

 

The recruits are led single file into the gym; the bright lights casting sharp shadows along the floor. Six wrestling mats have been laid out and arranged in the open expanse, room for each recruit testing to do so safely with plenty of distance from one another. In the center of each area an officer stands akimbo, dressed in all black, waiting. Chris and Victor are unmistakable, standing one on either side.

“I’ve pulled Recruit Jonathan from a sister class to even the numbers,” Leroy starts, everyone’s attention on him. “After I split the class in half, each group will pair up and test both as an officer, then a suspect. The rounds will be best two out of three before you can move on to the next. After lunch I will team everyone up to fight test against one of these officers. You need a score higher than eighty percent to pass.”

Yuuri shares a slightly panicked look with Phichit and the other (now) ten recruits as they all do the math in their heads.

“We’ve got all day, so try not to injure yourselves in any foolish attempts to get out early.”

Phichit and Yuuri end up in different groups and Yuuri can’t help but breath a sigh of relief at not having to spar against his roommate. The new recruit ends up in Phichit’s group, and looks a bit intimidating standing a head taller than Yuuri and almost twice Phichit’s size. All muscle, if the tight sleeves are any indicator. Thankfully Phichit isn’t paired against him, that honor goes to Zac who is compatible in size.

When all the sorting is done, Yuuri finds himself paired with Marc. They are evenly sized but both know the reason they are paired is because their nearly matching scores in physical combat training leading up to this. 

No reason the actual test should be easy right?

Yuuri agrees to be the suspect first. His nerves would prefer it the other way but he can’t find the wherewithal to ask for a swap. Across the room he catches Phichit’s eye and the younger man throws a thumbs up for support. Yuuri snorts and shakes his head; his amusement drawing Chris and Victor's attention to him as Leroy calls everyone to their places and the testing begins.

Marc makes the first take down look easy, catching Yuuri off guard and swiping his feet out from under him when he turns to make a break for the outside ring. Despite the impact Yuuri laughs as he is put into cuffs. Marc’s teasing remark about ‘finally having him where he wants him’ only making him laugh harder.

“Next one’s mine.” Yuuri promises as Leroy approaches to grade and release them for the next round; reprimanding them quietly to at least act like they are taking the test seriously. Thoroughly chastised, Yuuri rubs his wrists once the cuffs are free, turning to face Marc again; taking a stance prepared to spar once more.

Yuuri wins the second match, forcing a third which ends in his defeat after ensuring Marc has to work for the victory, and thus the points. Marc in turn wins his first match as suspect forcing Yuuri to win back to back matches. They are both winded but in good spirits as Yuuri removes the cuffs the last time.

Yuuri finds Phichit amongst the crowd and if the smirk on his face is anything to go by he was also successful. Acknowledging Yuuri's nod of congratulations, Phichit motions towards the officers lining the wall. Yuuri squeezes his eyes closed hearing Phichit's laugh before opening them again and looking over to the bright blue eyes currently watching him.

The subtle nod is not missed, nor is the light chuckle from Chris as Yuuri turns away before his cheeks darken, or the blush has time to spread to the tips of his ears.

When the last match has finally been won (Zac besting Jonathan two out of three as the suspect leaving Jonathan with a deficit to make up to earn a passing score) Leroy gathers everyone back together. Glancing at his watch he hums.

“I think I'll mix the groups and let you go again before lunch.” he says nonchalantly, as if adding another six rounds to everyone isn't anything to bat an eye at. The class knows not to protest.

Divided and paired off once more Yuuri eyes his newest opponent. Of course Leroy teamed him against Jonathan.

Yuuri claims the right to test as officer first. When the whistle blows Jonathan lunges for Yuuri who quickly widens his stance. Using the forward momentum he grabs the front of Jonathan's shirt and twists his torso throwing the larger man off balance. Continuing the turn, Yuuri follows behind him as he crashes to the mat, training taking over as he quickly pins the thrashing man down and pries his arms behind him to be cuffed.

Leroy approves and they reset.

The second match has Jonathan trying to escape only for his collar to be captured and him falling heavily to the mat on his ass; Yuuri's cuffs in place before the daze can wear off.

Leroy again approves, the look on Jonathan's face is murderous as the pair are ordered to go the third round.

As they reset for the last time Yuuri knows it isn't going to end well. He can see it in the set of Jonathan's jaw and the fire that blazes in his eyes. But Yuuri isn't a coward and the adrenaline coursing through his veins keeps the fear at bay. Taking a breath to calm his mind, Yuuri takes his stance and beckons for Jonathan to act. 

Lunging for Yuuri, Jonathan is caught by the shirt and thrown to the mat. Having learned from the first round he rolls out of the way and is on his feet almost instantly. He and Yuuri spar for a moment, Jonathan the aggressor; Yuuri waiting for an opening. It comes as Jonathan turns quickly, kicking out into a roundhouse and aiming for Yuuri's ribs. The move is easily deflected, Yuuri grabbing the ankle and twisting, throwing Jonathan off balance and to the mat again.

Following him down in an attempt to subdue him Yuuri is caught off guard by Jonathan's whole body twist. The fist connects with his jaw before he has a chance to defend himself. Yuuri scrambles to get his feet under him as Jonathan does the same, but is only half risen as he's tackled by his _suspect_. 

Jonathan’s body crashes heavily against Yuuri’s, knocking the breath from him a moment before his head bashes against the hard gym floor just beyond the mat, his glasses slipping off and sliding a little ways off.

Straddling the smaller man Jonathan strikes again, aiming for Yuuri's head, who raises his arms in defense, only barely blocking the blow as he tries to gather his wits. With a growl Jonathan makes for the training weapon strapped to the belt at Yuuri's waist. In the resulting scuffle Yuuri manages to get his leg between their bodies but is unable to force the larger man off him before his weapon is unholstered.

Up until this moment all of Yuuri’s commands for surrender have gone unheeded and all attempts to subdue the recruit/suspect with non-deadly force have inevitably lead them to this time and place. Knowing if this were a real life situation Yuuri does what they have all trained for: he wrenches his training weapon from Jonathan's hands, the man protesting the pain in his wrist as Yuuri turns the weapon on the suspect and fires two rounds into his chest.

The shots echo in the expansive room. 

Panting with the gun still tightly clenched in both hands, pressed against the kevlar just below Jonathan's sternum, Yuuri takes in the recruit’s saucer wide eyes as the man topples backwards to land on his ass, hand over his chest where the soft test rounds struck his vest.

“You fucking shot me!” He bellows, rage taking over, as he scrambles back up in an effort to get to Yuuri again.

Yuuri quickly tries to push backwards, to put distance between himself and Jonathan, he’s only just planted his foot when the grip handle of his vest is yanked, hauling him out of reach. The mental image of snapping dog being dragged back by the chain flashes in his mind as Jonathan's vest is grabbed the same way by Chris and Zac.

Belated, Yuuri notices the quiet in the gym. His hammering heart, mixing with a ringing in his ears, drowns out Phichit's voice from where he has knelt directly in front of him. The firm grip on his shoulder grounds him as he tries to bring his senses back into focus.

“I'm fine Peach.” He comforts, still unsure what Phichit is saying, reaching out to pat his roommate's shoulder. “Let me up I'm ok. I’m fine.” He moves to stand and the hand on his shoulder grips tighter, a gentle pressure holding him in place. Looking up he is met by Victor’s concerned gaze.

“Sit still Yuuri, they should be here any second now.”

The stern clip in the senior officer’s voice registers immediately causing Yuuri’s anxiety to spike. He quickly tries searching out Jonathan to ensure he hasn’t actually injured the recruit in the scuffle. When his search turns up nothing he glances back up to Victor, “I didn’t hurt him, did I?” He asks, trying (and mostly failing) to focus on his friend’s face to gauge exactly how much trouble he is in.

“What?” Victor asks looking back to Yuuri; the confusion from the question evident in his voice. “No you didn’t hurt the twat and if I had any say in it, he’d be out of the academy and on his way home before lunch is over.” Victor pauses, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder again, “Now sit still until the medics get here, I want to make sure you’re not injured before I let you up.”

The first medic in cuts across to Yuuri, kneeling down in front of him, before laying a tablet on top of his open bag. Yuuri looks from Phichit to Victor and back to the medic, Mayes, the embroidery reads on his jacket.

“I'm fine, really.” Yuuri protests. “I've had worse fighting my sister.” Mayes laughs, though the scowl on his friend's faces prove they don't agree with his comedic timing.

Pulling a small pen from his pocket Mayes asks, “Mr. Katsuki, Sergeant Leroy stated your head struck the gym floor. Do you remember the incident?”

Yuuri looks for Leroy but doesn't find him before answering “I knew when he tackled me it was going to be a hard fall. It all happened so fast though, it didn't really register until after we separated.”

Humming, Mayes makes a note before continuing, “On a scale of one to ten, what is your current pain level?”

Yuuri thinks for a second before answering, “Between a three or four. Closer to three probably.”

“Any blurred vision?”

Yuuri smirks but Victor's sharp, ‘Now's not the time Katsuki’, cuts off his original reply. 

Yuuri looks around focusing on people and objects all across the gym, before looking back to Phichit knelt next him and up at Victor again, catching the drawn expression on his face. Taking a deep breath Yuuri looks back to Mayes, “It's a little fuzzier, but mostly normal without my glasses.”

“So it's not any worse at the moment?”

“Only just a touch?” It's obviously a question so he tries to clarify. “It takes a bit more for me to focus than usual.”

Mayes adds the note then swaps the pen for a small flashlight. “I'm going to check your response to light and measure the dilation rate. If it hurts at all let me know.”

Yuuri nods, the movement makes his head swim so he stills, looking straight ahead; the flinch when the light clicks on is not missed.

After a few passes, Mayes puts the light away to fill in notes on the tablet. A second medic joins the small group, shaking Victor's hand.

“Nikiforov. Nice to see you again. You still coming to the BBQ tomorrow?”

”Benson!” Victor greets in return, his voice lighter but still serious. “It's a pleasure. I'm not sure, I'll let you know this evening”

Benson nods in agreement, turning to Mayes. “So what do you think?” He asks, watching Mayes gently knead around the back of Yuuri’s head.

“Looks like it's going to be a concussion. I can tell where his head made contact but I can’t really feel a knot. I'd recommend a scan just to be sure there isn't any swelling inside.”

“Can I go this afternoon?” Yuuri asks looking between the two medics. “I've got to finish testing.”

“Like hell.” Victor interrupts. “If the medical expert says you need a scan, you need a scan.”

“Testing out of this class is a huge chunk of my grade.” Yuuri argues, trying to rise from his seiza position.

Victor's hand is back on his shoulder before he has a chance to fully stand, forcing him back to the ground. “If you have a concussion continuing will only make it worse. I'll be damned if you hurt yourself to prove a point” His voice is lower than normal, the anger unmistakable.

“Is this the take down exam?” Benson asks in an effort to diffuse the argument.

“Yes.” Victor answers, not taking his eyes, or hand off of Yuuri.

“Yeah, you're gonna have to finish talking the test sometime down the line. The risk is too high even with a mild concussion, let alone a moderate one. Which if I had to guess, is what I’d put my money on.” His voice is sympathetic but it still frustrates Yuuri.

“I’ll talk to Leroy and set up a time for you to finish the test as soon as you’re cleared.” Victor offers seeing the anger flash in Yuuri’s eyes.

Yuuri holds eye contact for another second before sighing and looking back to the medics. “Can we at least slip out the back so I’m not paraded in front of everyone on the way out?”

“We can.” Benson chuckles, offering a hand to help Yuuri up, “It’ll be a bit of a walk though.” 

Yuuri shrugs, taking his glasses from Phichit, he’s quickly enveloped in the younger man’s arms.

“I’m fine Peach.” He reassures with a smile sliding his glasses in place. “Kick ass this afternoon and let me know what happens, ok?”

Phichit agrees, watching them leave before heading out of the now empty gym.

 

The medics transfer them in the ER staff for the initial examination. Once Yuuri has been checked in, a nurse leads them to a small room used for police and other emergency personnel to wait until the scanner frees up. Laying his glasses on the low side table, Yuuri claims a corner of an overstuffed couch and refuses to move. Soothed by the gentle quiet that fills the room his energy starts fading.

Victor breaks the silence after what could have been eternity, “I think it would be best if you stay with someone who can look after you for the night.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Yuuri bites out, arm still draped over his eyes blocking out the light of the waiting room. 

Victor lets the silence stretch long enough that it forces Yuuri to peek out from under his arm.

“If the light is hurting your eyes then it’s obviously bordering on a moderate concussion.” His too calm voice is clearly his police voice, “And although I fully trust Phichit to be vigilant, I think I would feel better if someone a little better trained was in your company.”

Yuuri blinks at him. He knows by using the _“I”_ comments Victor is trying to force his brain to agree, but Yuuri is still a little pissy from the whole thing and having to miss the second half of the test isn’t helping. And if he is being completely honest, the growing headache is making it hard to concentrate. With a sigh he drops his arm back over his eyes blocking the light again.

“You gonna send me home for the weekend? Have a family friend setup a guest room for me?” He asks, the after image of Victor’s silhouette at the opposite end of the couch filling his mind.

Victor tests the small lamp next to him then stands, crossing to the far wall and switching off all the lights. Sitting down he waits, scrolling on his phone as he lets Yuuri’s frustrated comment fade. Glancing up he finds Yuuri’s curious gaze locked on him. “Although I’m sure you would prefer that,” he answers looking back to his phone, “I’m also fairly certain they wouldn’t hold you as accountable as they should.”

Yuuri sits up, eyeing the man who is pointedly not paying attention to him now that he is up. The blue light casting sharp contrast across his face. “What do you have in mind then?”

Victor chuckles, still scrolling through an app, “If you’re ok with it, you can come crash at my place this weekend.” He glances up long enough to ensure Yuuri is still listening before turning back to his phone.

Victor accompanying Yuuri to the hospital wasn't surprising, the open invitation to his apartment is. Yuuri sits there shocked for a second studying the other man. A touch of color across the bridge of his nose catches Yuuri’s attention.

“Are you blushing Nikiforov?”

“Shut it Katsuki, do you want to come over or not?” The tone is teasing but there is something just below the surface.

Yuuri laughs, it hurts but he laughs anyways, shifting to stretch out on the couch; his head resting on Victor’s leg. “You’re such a dork.” He finally says after getting comfortable.

“So is that a yes?”

Yuuri hums as though he is thinking over the question. “I guess I’ll let you play nursemaid.” He answers. He can feel Victor’s responding chuckle but it’s the fingers carding through his hair that makes him smile. Relaxing for the first time Yuuri shuts his eyes and tries to rest.


	7. take downs and hook ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's POV of the last fight and beyond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small treat for everyone.  
> When I was writing ch6, Victor's POV was screaming to be told.  
> I hope you enjoy <3

The first loss against Yuuri is quick, the take down showing a tremendous strength hidden in the smaller man and Victor can’t help but be proud. The second loss is a good example of how most interactions with combative suspects play out; be quicker and keep the element of surprise. 

Victor focuses on Jonathan as Leroy grades the take down and tells them to reset for the, unnecessary, third round. The recruit’s temper had been evident when his last match with Zac ended in a loss, the cool down while Leroy talked and regrouped the class obviously not long enough to calm the man. Now, Jonathan is practically shaking, slight tremors noticeable as he fists and unfists his hands; it’s clear a new level of anger has been added.

Years on the job has Victor’s nerves on and edge, Jonathan and Yuuri’s size difference was blatantly obvious when they first squared off. Even though Yuuri has been doing well, holding his own, that doesn’t make watching any easier. Real life can be that way sometimes; you can’t usually pick and choose who you go against on the streets. Movement from the corner of his vision proves the other training officers see the potential issues; their instincts pulling them closer to the duo as well.

The whole gym pauses, every eye on the pair about to fighting in the center ring. Yuuri for all of his laughter and teasing with his first sparring partner has found himself in an actual fight with his second.

The third match quickly turns into the exact definition of why you don’t let your emotions lead your actions; being rash rarely works to your benefit.

Yuuri’s commands to _‘quit resisting’_ and _‘surrender’_ are all still clear as they tussel but there is an emotion starting to coloring the edges, a strain that Victor can’t (won’t) name. He doesn’t realize he’s taken a full step towards the fighting pair until he hears his name called by Leroy accompanied by a quick shake of his head. The command is obvious; _let them fight_. 

Victor understands, he really does, when you find yourself out on the streets, back up isn’t always there to save you. You have to be able to save yourself if the time comes. None of this knowledge keeps his instincts from screaming to separate the pair. 

Risking an injury for a score is pointless, it’s just a test. It can be retaken.

Victor watches Jonathan lunge for Yuuri, his target side-stepping and using the momentum to pull the larger body to the ground with a tight grip in a loose shirt. Jonathan rolls as he hits the mat, gaining his feet almost instantly lunging for Yuuri, who side-steps again; foot work quick and sure as the pair circle each other exchanging blocks and blows, trying to gain the upperhand.

As Yuuri rounds the mat, Victor can’t help but notice the fire and single minded determination painted across the man’s face. It’s clear he has zoned out the rest of the room, his opponent the only thing worth his attention. That won’t do. Tunnel vision is riskier than a fight, leaving an officer open for attack from anywhere beyond the created bubble.

Jonathan spins, kicking out in a roundhouse aimed for Yuuri’s ribs. The move is clumsy and easily blocked, leaving the man off balance and on the mat again. Yuuri in an effort to bring the madness to an end spins, his back to victor again, and follows his opponent down, ending up in a trap as Jonathan twists so his back hits the mat. His fist connects with Yuuri’s jaw snapping his head to the side.

Victor feels his nails bite into the palm of his hand, he throws a glance to Leroy as Yuuri scrambles to get his feet under him to separate himself from Jonathan. The instructor catching Victor’s eye as he looks down to make a note on the clipboard. In that instant all of Leroy’s attention off the fighters.

Victor looks back to Yuuri, only half risen, as he’s caught around the waist in a tackle by the larger man, forcing him to the ground. The sound of his head striking the hard floor turns Victor’s stomach. He expects there to be blood, but mercifully there is none.

As the Jonathan straddles the smaller man he strikes, aiming again for Yuuri's head. It’s clear Yuuri is still trying to gather his wits, his arms raised in defense, only barely blocking the blow. A growl is clearly heard as Jonathan reaches for the training weapon strapped to Yuuri's waist.

This is ridiculous and needs to be stopped, now.

“Leroy!” Victor barks, done with whatever show the man is trying to put on, closing half the distance between where he was standing and ring, even as Leroy shouts to stand back.

Yuuri finds his voice again, yelling for Jonathan to surrender as he struggles; forcing one of his legs between their bodies.

Victor watches as Yuuri tries his damndest to get the larger man off. Sees the moment of recognition as the weapon is unholstered, and the breath of resignation as he wrenches it free and without pause fires two shots into the kevlar vest above him.

Jonathan falls backwards onto his ass again.

Time stops. An eternity between one heartbeat and the next. The silence finally being broken by Jonathan’s rage filled outburst.

Victor moves, no longer held by any ill advised belief in testing or proving a point; it stopped being a test before the last round started. Locking his fist in Yuuri’s grip handle on the back of his kevlar vest, Victor plants his foot and twists at the waist, dragging Yuuri out of reach of the enraged recruit. With his body working as a shield against any potential attacks, Victor turns back only to discover Chris and Zac hauling a fighting Jonathan backwards also. By the time he turns back to Yuuri, Phichit has materialized in front of his roommate. The concern and pride is evident in Phichit’s slight rambling as he makes sure his friend is safe.

Victor doesn’t even notice his hand has moved to the younger man’s shoulder until he feels him shift, as if to stand. Gripping tight enough to get Yuuri’s attention, Victor holds him in place. The call for medics had rang out following the shots, it’s clear Jonathan isn’t seriously injured but until Yuuri is checked out, he isn’t going anywhere.

“Sit still Katsuki, they should be here any second now.” The widening of Yuuri’s eyes is accompanied by the man whipping his head around to look around the gym before looking back up to Victor. The shuddered breath and slight wobble caused by the action is exaggerated by Victor’s grip on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“I didn’t hurt him did I?” Yuuri asks, his voice unsteady, the nerves evident.

“What?” Victor asks looking back to Yuuri; the confusion from the question evident in his voice. “No you didn’t hurt the twat and if I had any say in it, he’d be out of the academy and on his way home before lunch is over.” He pauses, squeezing Yuuri’s shoulder again. When he speaks his voice is softer, quiet so not to travel beyond their small bubble. “Now sit still until the medics get here, I want to make sure you’re not injured before I let you up.” Yuuri nods, his wide eyes never leaving Victor’s face as they wait.

The first medic, Mayes, cuts across to Yuuri, kneeling down in front of him. His tablet goes on top of his open bag as he quickly preps for the initial exam. 

“I'm fine, really.” Yuuri protests, glancing between where Phichit and Victor have stepped back to give Mayes room, and back to the medic. “I've had worse fighting my sister.” 

Mayes laughs, Victor and Phichit don’t find the humor in the comment; their matching scowls proof of their shared judgment.

Victor takes a second to scan the gym. The recruits have all been moved to the far side to give sworn, written, accounts of the incident. Each following orders to leave once finished.

“Any blurred vision?” He hears Mayes ask.

Glancing down Victor catches Yuuri’s smirk and sees red, “Now's not the time Katsuki” He snaps, cutting off whatever reply Yuuri had been planning. The disapproval is undeniable in his voice and he doesn’t bother trying to soften the blow. Deflecting concerns through humor and jokes is fine, but everything has its time and place.

With a nod the younger man shivers before looking across the room, to Phichit, then up to Victor again as if trying to gauge how much trouble he’s in, before turning to Mayes. 

Victor knows he’s still scowling, can feel it in the lock of his jaw and tightness of his shoulders with his arms crossed over his chest. He refuses to relent. This is not a joking matter.

Yuuri’s reply is honest and softly spoken, “It's a little fuzzier, but mostly normal without my glasses.”

“So it's not any worse at the moment?” Mayes prompts again.

“Only just a touch?” Victor can hear the question in the statement even as Yuuri tries to clarify. “It takes a bit more effort for me to focus than usual.”

The call of his name draws his attention from Mayes as the medic continues his assessment and swipes the flashlight in front of Yuuri.

“Nikiforov. Nice to see you again. You still coming to the BBQ tomorrow?”

”Benson!” Victor greets in return, dropping his arms and forcing his voice to be lighter, the seriousness still eating at the edges. “It's a pleasure. I'm not sure, I'll let you know this evening” 

He wants to say that all his plans are on hold until he knows Yuuri is safe but guesses that would been too much for the moment and in all honesty isn’t sure he wants to share anything that might remotely reflect negatively on Yuuri. Instead he keeps quiet watching them feel around Yuuri's head and listening to their conclusions and recommendations.

“Can I go this afternoon?” Yuuri asks, drawing Victor back into the conversation. “I've got to finish testing.”

“Like hell.” He interrupts, “If the medical expert says you need a scan, you need a scan.”

“Testing out of this class is a huge chunk of my grade.” Yuuri argues, trying to rise from the seiza position he had settled in.

Victor's hand is back on Yuuri's shoulder before Yuuri has a chance to fully stand, forcing him back to the ground. “If you have a concussion,” he says, voice lower than normal, the anger unmistakable again, “continuing will only make it worse. I'll be damned if you hurt yourself to prove a point”

“Is this the take down exam?” Benson interrupts. Victor appreciates the back-up and the chance to diffuse the argument.

“Yes.” He answers, not taking his eyes, or hand off of Yuuri.

“Yeah, you're gonna have to finish talking the test sometime down the line. The risk is too high even with a mild concussion, let alone a moderate one. Which if I had to guess, is what I’d put my money on.” His voice is sympathetic but only earns frustration from Yuuri.

Taking a breath, Victor squashes his anger and fights the urge to caress Yuuri's clenched jaw, the bruising from the sucker punch already starting to paint it in shades of purple and red. “I’ll talk to Leroy and set up a time for you to finish the test as soon as you’re cleared.” He offers trying to soothe Yuuri’s anger.

Yuuri holds eye contact for another second before sighing and looking back to the medics. “Can we at least slip out the back so I’m not paraded in front of everyone on the way out?” It’s clear he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t want to fight either.

“We can.” Benson chuckles, offering a hand to help Yuuri up, “It’ll be a bit of a walk though.” 

The tension tying Victor's nerves together loosen a touch as Yuuri shrugs at Benson's last comment and takes his glasses from Phichit; quickly being enveloped by his friend.

“I’m fine Peach.” Yuuri reassures, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he slides his glasses in place once free. “Kick ass this afternoon and let me know what happens, ok?”

Once beyond the doors Mayes radios to another medic who agrees to meet them so they don't have to make the walk.

“We'll save you a few steps, don't want you deciding to pass out on us halfway there.” Benson jokes stopping at the edge of the sidewalk to wait.

“Yeah,” Victor hears Yuuri mumble as he sits down on the curb, “wouldn’t want to add to my growing list of embarrassment.”

Humming under his breath Victor sits next to Yuuri, “Hey, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

The look Yuuri throws him says more than words. Right now isn’t the time or the place for this discussion and he’s having none of it.

 

The medics transfer them to the ER staff, sticking around only long enough to finish their report. Victor follows Yuuri and a nurse to an open bed, asking which way to the waiting room only for his suggestion to be cut down by Yuuri

“You followed me this far, now you want to leave me alone?”

Yuuri's harsh tone catches Victor off guard for a moment. “I figured you would want privacy during check in?” There is a question to the statement. Yuuri rolls his eyes at him, the _whatever_ heard even without being spoken. 

“What?” Victor asks at the action. “I know they’ve covered HIPAA, you’ve been in the academy too long not to have. I hardly imagine I'm your emergency contact.”

Yuuri grumbles scooting to the center of the bed “That’s not the point but whatever. You can go find the waiting room, I’ll make sure someone comes to get you if I get admitted or I’ll find you after the scan.”

Victor watches the grown man he knows is going to be a damn fine officer sulk in the bed for a second before turning to the nurse and putting on his media smile. 

“I’ll be fine milling around back here won’t I?”

The older nurse smiles and pats his arm. “It’ll be fine dear.” Her eyes catch on the embroidered badge of his vest cover, then glance over to Yuuri (the academy logo unmistakable on his uniform shirt), “Sometimes there is an attitude shift with head wounds but he should be back to normal in a few hours.”

Laughing despite himself, Victor looks over to Yuuri who seems to be studiously ignoring the both of them with his arm draped over his eyes, “Oh I’m sure that might be the case most times, but sadly this is just his normal stubborn, hard headed self shining through. Although he is usually nicer to beautiful women like yourself.”

“Victor!” Yuuri protests setting up right, closing his eyes against the movement. Victor is by his side instantly, the sound of laughter fading as the nurse walks away.

 

When a second nurse comes through to poke and prod Yuuri, Victor waits outside the thin curtain. Falling in line when the nurse leads them to a small room, used for police and other emergency personnel to wait, until the scanner frees up.

Yuuri lays his glasses on the low side table, claiming the far corner of an overstuffed couch. Victor can’t help but watch as he slouches low resting his head on the fluffy back, arm over his eyes again; his long legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. The only other movement the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Slowly sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, so he doesn’t jostle Yuuri, Victor bides his time; pulling his phone out to scroll through one of his mundane social media accounts. 

After a few minutes Victor can’t take the silence that has stretched between them since the first nurse left them alone. “I think it would be best if you stay with someone who can look after you for the night.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.” Yuuri bites out, arm still draped over his eyes blocking out the light of the waiting room. 

Victor takes a breath, holds it, then lets it out slowly. Taking his time, hoping to force Yuuri to respond. Out the corner of his eye he sees Yuuri peek out from under his arm.

“If the light is hurting your eyes,” he starts cautiously, “then it’s obviously bordering on a moderate concussion.” Victor watches as Yuuri narrows his eyes at him, “And although I fully trust Phichit to be vigilant, I think I would feel better if someone a little better trained was in your company.”

Taken aback for a moment, Yuuri blinks at him before dropping his arm over his eyes blocking the light again with an exasperated sigh. “You gonna send me home for the weekend? Have a family friend setup a guest room for me?”

Smiling, Victor turns the small lamp next to him on then crosses to the wall to turn the overhead lights off. Sitting down he waits, scrolling on his phone again letting Yuuri’s frustration simmer and hopefully cool. After a minute he can feel the other man’s gaze on him; glancing up he finds Yuuri’s eyes locked on him and can basically hear the curious questions. 

“Although I’m sure you would prefer that,” Victor answers the original questions, purposefully looking back to his phone so he doesn’t get lost in the liquid amber that is Yuuri’s eyes in this lighting, “I’m also fairly certain they wouldn’t hold you as accountable as they should.”

“What do you have in mind then?” Yuuri asks sitting up fully. Victor shivers, he can all but feel Yuuri examining him where he sits.

Chuckling in an effort to dispel his nerves, Victor keeps his eyes on his phone, “If you’re ok with it,” he starts quietly, “you can come crash at my place this weekend.” Glancing up just long enough to look Yuuri in the eyes for a second, he turns back to his phone.

The silence stretches and Victor wonders if Yuuri is using the same tactic to make him cave and look up at him. It works, of course. When he just can’t take it any longer he turns, catching Yuuri’s slightly bewildered eyes.

“Are you blushing Nikiforov?” He asks, the emotion in his eyes clearly shifting to mischievousness.

“Shut it Katsuki,” Victor’s tone is teasing, the heat in his cheeks clearly giving him away, “do you want to come over or not?” To Victor’s surprise, Yuuri laughs; honest and true with his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. 

Victor is just about to pout and point out that there are nicer ways to turn a man down when to his utter shock Yuuri shifts, stretching out on the couch; his head resting on Victor’s leg. 

“You’re such a dork.” Yuuri says after gaining control of himself and getting comfortable.

“So is that a yes?” Desperate, and too quickly asked Victor chides himself as Yuuri hums at the question. 

“I guess I’ll let you play nursemaid.” He answers. Closing his eyes Victor laughs. 

Caving to an urge he’s had for months, Victor cards his fingers through Yuuri’s dark, rich hair. He can feel the younger man smile, his whole body relaxing for the first time all afternoon.


	8. doctor* patient confidentiality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome and thank you for coming back!  
> You guys are awesome need kudos too <3  
> Quick shout out to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) for being an amazing beta and everyone in Bedtime Stories who cheer me on and are warriors against my doubts and anxieties <3

Getting home from the hospital worked well with a bit of added luck. The med crew, who transported them, showed up with another patient just as Yuuri was being taken back for the first scan and were able to give Victor a ride back to the station to retrieve his personal vehicle. By the time Victor made it back to the hospital, Yuuri had been released and was talking with the original nurse over a hot cup of tea in the little private waiting room.

 

“I was starting to think you were going to leave me to find my own way home.” Yuuri teases, as they walk up the final set of stairs in the dorm building. “My poor damaged brain was trying to remember bus routes and schedule times. My phone was almost dead. I just knew I was going to be stranded and lost.”

Victor pauses mid step to cover his face with his hand, a smile starting to pull at his lips. “I told you I was sorry when I got back, but honestly Yuuri I couldn’t help the traffic situation.”

From the landing above Yuuri turns, a mischievous smirk firmly in place, “Ah yes, the major accident where the suspect driver tried to flee,” he pauses reaching for the handle, “and the amazing _citizen_ jumped from his car to chase the man down on foot, in the middle of the expressway?” 

“I will not apologize for detaining the driver.” Victor protests before Yuuri can continue. “He was driving a stolen vehicle and every city surrounding this one wanted him for warrants.” 

“None of which you knew while off duty _and_ driving your personal car,” Yuuri laughs pulling the door open and leaving Victor in the stairwell.

Victor catches up as Yuuri is unlocking his door at the far end of the hall. 

Motioning around the small room he shrugs, “It’s not much but make yourself at home.” 

The sight of Victor as he pulls the desk chair out, leaning back comfortably as though he owns the place (which could just be a hallucination caused by today's events), brings a warmth to Yuuri’s chest. How the hell is he supposed to survive a whole weekend with that if it's not? 

What was he thinking agreeing to this?

Yuuri can feel Victor’s eyes on him as he starts digging out clothes for the weekend. Somewhere down the line he’ll let it registar that in the short time it took to open the bottom drawer his entire underwear collection was on display (very ordinary and not impressive at all) for Victor to see. For now though, the pain meds are thankfully keeping the annoying little voices at bay.

“Do you only need five shirts?” Victor asks from his perch at the desk a few minutes later.

The question throws Yuuri, who looks down at the neatly packed bag. “I...yes?” He starts, “I mean, one for each day and night, then a spare.”

“But you packed six pants. Three jeans and three sweats?” The smile on Victor’s face is smug, “Why not pack another shirt so you have an entire extra outfit?”

“Why are you like this?” Yuuri asks grabbing another plain white tee shirt to stuff, unceremoniously, in the bag as Victor’s laughter fills the room.

 

Pulling a small notepad from his top desk drawer, which involves reaching across Victor (in hindsight, he could have asked him to move), Yuuri scribbles a short note for Phichit, telling him he’s fine _(I’m fine, this is fine)_ and will probably be back Sunday afternoon _(If I don’t keel over before then)_.

Leaving it on his roommate’s desk, the hamsters squeak excitedly, drawing a coo from him as he opens the cage door to pet them, quickly closing it back as one tries to make an escape. Snagging his toiletry bag from the en suite, it joins the overnight collection in a side pocket before Yuuri steps back to survey the room for anything he might have missed. 

“I think that's it.” He announces turning to Victor, who is offering his forgotten phone charger. Shrugging, Yuuri accepts the cord coiling it gently before shoving it in an empty side pocket. 

___

 

Their journey to Victor's place takes them back downtown to one of the tall apartment buildings; then to one of the upper floors. The elevation change, on an elevator that moves far too fast for Yuuri’s stomach and equilibrium, leaves him a touch light headed. The walk down the nondescript hall is used to ground himself, although his plan of following a step behind is sidetracked by Victor's hand at the small of his back steadying him. The comfortable silence is broken by the jingle of keys as Victor’s front door swings open

“Home sweet hom--” An excited bark echoes from inside interrupting Victor; the full weight of a standard poodle careening into Yuuri an instant later.

Yuuri goes down hard, leaning forward at the last second to wrap himself around the dog in an attempt to break his fall as much as possible. The effort gaining him a face full of slobbery kisses as he relents, rocking back to lay on the floor, head still held up. His fingers are lost in the soft curls and despite the initial shock he laughs, completely caught up in the moment.

“Makka, no!” Victor's (frantic?) shout instantly drags Yuuri's attention away from the dog; as he is pulled back by the collar. “All the training we go through and _this_ is how you treat new guests!” He scolds, shooing him back into the apartment with a command in German.

Yuuri lays there watching the two of them. _‘How is this even my life’_ he thinks glancing into the apartment. From the doorway the edge of the kitchen is just visible, the area open to the comfortably furnished living space beyond. A quaint patio can be seen through the open curtains, tucked to either side of the framed glass sliding doors on the far wall.

His view is suddenly blocked by Victor kneeling just to his left, leaning in a bit. “Yuuri, are you ok? I’m sorry, he’s usually better with guests.”

Yuuri blinks, brain still running slow, trying to follow the new line of conversation. The sound of his name being repeated and the worry radiating from Victor draws a nervous laugh from him. Victor frowns.

“Sorry, I’m fine.” He rushes to cover his nerves, “Makka didn’t hurt me, I’m just having a...” He stops abruptly and looks up to the man in front of him, a warm blush heating his cheeks.

Victor tilts his head, expression softening, “Are you having a fanboy moment Katsuki?” his voice is full of innocence that does not match the glint in his eyes. “Chris mentioned you followed me on at least one of the social media sites”

“N-no.” Yuuri stutters rocking forward in the liminal space trying to stand. “Chris is an ass and reads too much into things.”

Victor shifts in front of him and catches Yuuri’s wrists holding him still for a second, moving just a touch closer. “Maybe a different kind of moment then?” He pauses to take a quick breath, voice too smooth for Yuuri's well-being. “Come on, I’ll give you the personal tour.”

Yuuri’s breath catches, with his feet planted as they are, Victor is leaving into the valley between his legs; their noses only a few inches apart. It would be too easy to close the gap. “I’m sure you say that to everyone you bring home,” he whispers not trusting his voice any louder.

Victor moves, shifting backward and standing, pulling Yuuri up at the same time. “I haven’t had company in a while, and Chris doesn’t count.”

Yuuri nods, still wide-eyed, as he’s led to the center of the apartment, stopping beside a small dining table.

“Do you want to unpack first?” Victor asks glancing towards the last door along the wall that separates the area.

Yuuri watches for a second, trying to puzzle him out. “I’m ok, for now.”

Victor nods, hoisting the duffle bag, which he'd snagged from Yuuri in the parking garage, further up his shoulder before grabbing Yuuri’s hand and circling back towards the kitchen.

Yuuri flexes his fingers in Victor's grip, the warmth between their hands easily mirrored in the blush across his cheek.

“Alright then. Make yourself at home, anything here is yours, don’t worry about asking.” Victor starts as he leads Yuuri across the floor. “That’s just a closet,” he motions to the door that would be hidden behind the front door if it were open. “This, isn’t too fancy but it’ll do for now.” he opens the door to show a clean bathroom, decorated in soft cool colors. The tub is a spacious and deep garden tub perfect for soaking and possibly large enough for two. The sink and mirror are sleek, clear of any spots or smudges. An inner door to the right is opened next, the pass through flanked by a walk-in closet to the right and a laundry with a washer and dryer tucked against the opposite wall hidden behind french doors.

“There’s a dresser in here and spare hangers if you change your mind and want to unpack.” Victor prompts opening one of the double doors to the right, showing a spacious closet. Pulling the door closed again he moves to the end of the hall.

“I plan on putting fresh sheets on the bed.” He says as he steps through the far door, Yuuri's hand still in his, as he follows. “Not that these are dirty, but I have slept on them and you deserve the best while you heal. I’ll steal the blanket and take it with me to the living room.”

Yuuri gazes around the sleek and modern room in awe, Victor’s statement not registering at first. “Wait, no,” He argues once it does, watching Victor drop his duffle bag on the foot of the bed. “I can’t take the bed from you!”

The look Victor passes over Yuuri leaves no room for argument, “You can and you will.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to protest, a yawn catching him by surprise instead; his arm flies up as he buries his face in the crook of his elbow until it passes.

“Make yourself comfortable and I’ll get dinner started.” Victor glances at his watch, “If you want there should be enough time for you to take a short nap before it’s finished.”

“I’ll...umm, I’ll just take a quick shower and go from there.”

Smiling, Victor squeezes Yuuri’s shoulder and makes his way out into the living room pulling the door shut behind him. Yuuri lets out a shaky breath, closing his eyes for a second; the sound of the bathroom door shutting sets him in motion again, grabbing his bag he treks into the other room.

 

Dinner is mostly ready when he finally exits the bedroom, hair towel dried and brushed back with residual dampness. His sweats and shirt are soft, easing some of the nerves as he makes his way to the small dining table and takes a seat facing the kitchen to watch Victor shuffle around. Makka prances over to nose at his leg for pets and he laughs at the adorable grin he gets when he complies.

“Aren’t you just the epitome of a scary police dog,” Yuuri says scrunching his nose in an attempted scary face as he scratches under Makkachin’s jaw and around his neck.

“Hey!” Victor laughs turning with the spatula still in hand, pointing it towards Yuuri, “I’ll have you know he has passed every single course and test he's taken.”

“Even take down.” Yuuri jokes patting Makka on his back hip. “No biting though, although I’m sure you could if you wanted.” Glancing up Yuuri catches Victor staring. “What?” He asks still looking through his lashes, just over the top of his glasses. “His Instagram page is adorable.”

“N-nothing,” Victor smiles, a flush barely noticeable on his cheeks. “Do you want to eat at the table or in the living room?”

“The table is fine, do you want me to set our places?”

“I'll get it, you rest.”

Victor quickly gathers the needed items and sets everything up before dishing the meal and presenting it to Yuuri with a bit of flourish. The presentation earns an amused eye roll, but the shared smiles and laughter are well worth it.

Dinner is a fabulous looking meal of fluffy rice paired with grilled chicken and asparagus; each chef quality item neatly portioned and plated.

“Wow.” Yuuri breathes looking over the offered dish. “Victor, this looks delicious.”

“Thank you.” he beams. “I started with small portions, but there's plenty for seconds if you want. I was thinking leftovers would make a good salad tomorrow.”

Yuuri can't help the smile that spreads across his face. “You're really taking this nursemaid job serious huh?”

“Of course I am Yuuri, why wouldn't I be?”

Victor's serious tone catches Yuuri off guard, his smile faltering a little under the direct gaze. “It’s just a mild concussion,” he starts looking back down at the plate, “beyond this nagging headache I doubt anything else will come of it?”

“Well, maybe I used the situation as an excuse to invite you over because I figured it was an offer you wouldn’t say no to.” Victor’s attempt to lessen the tension is not missed, the implications drawing a blush to Yuuri's cheeks.

Pulling courage from gods know where, Yuuri tilts his head and smirks. “Sneaky Nikiforov, does this mean I'll only get your undivided attention when I'm injured?” Watching Victor's eyes go wide is well worth the tease.

“What no!” Victor stammers, reaching across and grasping Yuuri's loosely closed hand. “Of course not…”

Yuuri's laughter fills the apartment, his grin full of mirth, “Come on before dinner gets cold.” He slides his hand back, lacing their fingers together with a quick squeeze before pulling away to busy himself with cutlery.

 

Dinner is lively with easy conversation and gentle scolding at the end, Yuuri having been busted more than once slipping bites to Makkachin under the table.

“If you start that now, he'll bug you every time you eat here; you'll never get a peaceful dinner.” Victor chuckles, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Yuuri's (admittedly) adorable puppy dog eyes.

“It's a price I'll gladly pay then.” He shrugs after the apparently failed attempt at cuteness.

“You say that,” Victor smirks, “but just know, when he starts packing on the pounds, I expect you to run them off with him. I'm not going to be punished for your indulgence and lack of self-control.”

Chuckling, Yuuri leans over to properly scratch Makka. “You won't mind going on runs with me, will you boy?” He asks voice excited, “Maybe get up early and do a kilometer or so before your dad wakes up?” Makka barks, tongue lolling out in excitement. “Sounds like a plan then!”

Victor is quiet for a second then stands, gathering his plate and utensils. “All finished?”

“I can help clean up.” Yuuri offers, standing up himself, trying to help, only to have his clean plate taken from his hand.

“Nope, you're under doctor's orders to rest.” Victor makes a shooing motion with his free hand.

The protest is immediate, “I’m not an invalid; it’s just a concussion.”

Victor gives him a look, “Your job is to find something good to watch until bed.”

Yuuri watches Victor for a second, trying to puzzle out the look on his face. “Fine, fine.” Yuuri turns, “Any preferences?”

Victor's only help comes in the form of relinquishing complete control of the entertainment center to Yuuri.

“Will you at least tell me if you have a favorite spot so I know I'm not completely taking over your place?” The question is quiet and asked after Yuuri has moved to (and looked over) the living area, trying to guess where Victor would normally sit; coming up empty handed after the search.

Glancing up from the center of the room, Yuuri catches Victor's eyes; the other man watching him from the kitchen as he dries his hands before crossing to the living room. 

“Sit.” Victor whispers, gently pushing Yuuri back a few steps, then down onto the couch. Handing Yuuri the remote, Victor retrieves a throw blanket, tucking it in behind and around him.

Yuuri uncovers his arms and fiddles with the remote for a second, following Victor with his eyes as he heads back to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes.

“Yuuri~” Victor whines over his shoulder after a few moments of washing.

Laughing at the way Victor draws out the vowels Yuuri caves. “Ok, ok. I'll find something on TV.”

_Something_ ends up being the latest episode of a police procedural, complete with far too much drama and not near enough actual police work for the classification.

“I don’t know why I watch this stuff.” Yuuri confesses, curling up a little to leave plenty of room on the couch when Victor finally wanders over. “I don’t have enough time to really watch anything as it is, and then I watch this.” He motions towards the tv with a self-deprecating laugh.

Victor laughs, sitting in the offered area and tucking his feet under the end of the blanket, next to Yuuri’s. “There are worse things to watch. Do you watch that one show with the family who is always trying to out Extra™ each other?”

Yuuri groans, “Only when Phichit takes over the TV.” Despite the comment, a smile stretches across his face. “I think he only watches to criticize their Instagrams though.” He adds, a yawn overtaking him immediately after.

Victor raises an eyebrow at him until Yuuri waves him off. “I’m fine, I don't usually go to bed for another few hours.”

“You also don't usually have your head slammed into a cement floor by a deranged recruit, then spend the next few hours being poked and prodded by doctors.” Victor helpfully points out in a far too nonchalant way.

Yuuri takes a deep breath and sighs, “Yes, yes, that's all true.” His voice trails off as he looks away from Victor and his sharp focused eyes.

“But?” Victor prompts when it's apparent Yuuri isn't going to continue on his own.

Yuuri chews his lip for another moment. “Are you sure you want me in your bed?”

There’s a beat of silence and Yuuri turns back in time to watch a grin spread across Victor’s face. His brain finally catches up with itself, his words coming back to haunt him. Swallowing a squeak, he rolls onto his side, dragging the blanket over his head and curling into as tight a ball as he can. He feels a shift and movement on the couch; the silence from Victor is unnerving but he refuses to move, refuses to face whatever terrible (not terrible at all, probably) thing he might have created by accident.

He doesn’t fight against the gentle tug on the blanket though he does squeeze his eyes shut and move his hands to cover his burning face. The warmth of Victor’s hand on his shoulder causes his heart rate to spike, breath catching at the soft pressure on his left shoulder, coaxing him to turn. Dragging a stuttering breath, Yuuri lets himself be turned, twisting at the waist until his shoulders are flat on the couch. Even with his hands firmly in place, palms pressing into his cheeks, he can feel the warmth of Victor’s body around him. 

“Hey.” The word is whispered with the full intent of capturing his attention.

“I’m just going to lay here and die quietly thank you.”

“Come now, no dying on me. Open your eyes for a second.”

Slowly Yuuri opens his eyes, peeking through his fingers, wanting to look anywhere but up at first. He realizes, however, that Victor is everywhere, having caged him in. His right hand still rests on Yuuri’s left shoulder, left pressing against the arm of the couch, just over Yuuri’s head, holding him up. Victor has one leg bent, knee resting next to Yuuri’s side; the other extended behind him. His weight perfectly balanced between his knee and the toes of his left foot, giving him a scant few inches clearance over Yuuri’s body.

Ocean blue peer, down locked intently on him. Yuuri’s heart stops anyways. 

Beyond the mischievous grin, Victor’s eyes are nothing but caring and open, full of something Yuuri is absolutely too terrified to name. The look floods him with warmth, like stepping into the hotsprings from home.

“Still with me?” It’s a question and Yuuri nods, because of course he does. “Do you want to know a secret?”

Yuuri swallows, and the sight of Victor following the movement causes him to shiver. “What kind of secret?” He whispers.

Victor’s grin morphs into something far more sultry, “Do you have any idea...”

A loud knock echos through the apartment; Makka’s bark following a second later.

Groaning, Victor leans down just enough to rest his forehead against Yuuri’s. 

Makka barks again.

Victor pushes back up “One second.” he announces over his shoulder, catching Yuuri’s cringe at the loud call. “Sorry.” He adds in a whisper, eyes going wide a second later. “We didn’t pick up your medicine!”

Yuuri turns his head and laughs. Of all the random things to think of now, “They were just pain and motion sickness meds. I probably won’t take them anyways.”

Victor doesn’t move, eyes narrowing before he blinks away the look and leans forward just a fraction again. Seeming to decide against it, he shifts backward to stand. “We’ll talk about this in a minute.” He leaves Yuuri still laying on his side, cheek pressed against the cushion.

 

It’s a neighbor, a piece of Victor’s mail had been slipped into her box by accident. 

She sounds sweet, about their age, and completely oblivious. Victor for all of his charms, is failing to be rid of her and apparently can’t bring himself to just ask her to leave. 

Yuuri lays there quietly listening to her carry on about the weather, or pool maintenance, or whatever else before she settles on cooing over Makka.

“I was actually in the middle of something.” Victor tries a few minutes in, his most direct approach as of yet. The sound of Makkachin’s tail thumping happily, proving the beloved pet is once again being a traitor.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She says, but Yuuri hears no movement and rolls his eyes. 

Enough is enough.

For two heartbeats he contemplates taking his shirt off but figures if he ever wants to come back and have any chance of looking Victor’s neighbors in the eye he should refrain from being too scandalous on their first meeting. Also, he’s pretty sure Victor would have a heart attack. Turning to peek over the back of the couch, he has to bite back a laugh at the sight.

Victor stands (blocking most of the doorway) holding the door open with his foot, while the sweet, clueless neighbor is kneeling just outside the threshold, leaning in to pet dear, sweet, treacherous Makkachin who has stretched out on his back with his tongue lolled out, tail a blur of movement in response to the belly rubs and attention.

Sitting all the way up Yuuri clears his throat, the eyes of both humans snap to him and he smiles.

“I think I'm going to head on to bed.” He pauses looking down at the neighbor with a smile, then sweeps his gaze back up, “Come find me once you finish up and we can pick up our conversation again,” he pauses to shrug, “if I'm not asleep.” 

With another smile and nod to the neighbor, a courteous _'Ma'am’_ added for good measure, Yuuri takes his leave, disappearing into the bedroom.

The young woman's stuttered apology is endearing, and a whispered comment causes Victor to laugh as he's closing the door with a final goodnight.

Yuuri moves to lean against the door frame, their eyes meet from across the apartment. The blush is hard to miss on Victor's cheeks and Yuuri knows he's no better.

“So your neighbor seems nice.” He smiles, watching Victor close the distance.

“She's a sweetheart, a bit oblivious, but a sweetheart nonetheless. Now,” he says having reached Yuuri. “What do you mean you won't take the medicine?”

Yuuri closes his eyes as he slowly shakes his head, he'd hoped that comment was going to be forgotten. “I don't usually take meds.” He answers with a half shrug. “I have a fairly high pain tolerance, so it isn't an issue most of the time.”

Victor gives him a once over, eyes flicking to the digital clock on the nightstand. “Not acceptable, I'm gonna run to the pharmacy.” He makes to turn but Yuuri catches his arm, stopping him.

“No!” his grip tightens just a bit, “Don't, I can't let you do that, the pharmacy is all the way on the other side of town!”

Fighting a smile Victor purses his lips, “I don't know, I've got to do something. At this point, it doesn't look like I'm doing a very good job of taking care of you.”

“You're doing a great job,” Yuuri quickly answers with an ill-advised sharp shake of his head, “I'm just a horrible patient.”

“I'd say! You've fought me all day.” Victor teases, giving Yuuri a once over.

“Not all day.” Yuuri deflects, then blinks, thinking over the day and seeing the truth in the statement before continuing. “I'm sorry.” He physically deflates, shoulders slumping. “I don't mean to be so difficult.”

Victor takes in the instant mood shift. “Does this mean you won't fight me over sleeping arrangements?” He tries, voice light, but edged with concern, brushing a lock of hair behind Yuuri's ear.

Yuuri looks up watching Victor. He wants to claim the man as a great mystery, some unknown truth that the universe has placed before him; but standing here, under the man’s gaze, Yuuri knows that’s not true. 

Yuuri is also fairly certain this weekend is going to be his last. 

Taking a deep breath he wills the anxiety away as best he can and brings his finger to his lips, looking away with a slight tilt to his head as though he were thinking (two can play this game), “I don't know. I think I'll have to hear your proposal first. There might be other solutions to this supposed argument.” Surprisingly his voice is steady, unlike his heart, which has lodged itself in his throat.

Victor takes a deep breath, bringing both hands to his face and letting out a pained groan. “You're going to be the death of me Katsuki.” He mumbles into his palms. “The absolute death of me.”

Despite the white noise that's starting to creep into Yuuri's brain, he laughs and reaches up to pull Victor's wrists from his face. “Hey,” he whispers with a smile echoing Victor's words, “no dying remember?” He’s positive Victor can feel the tremble in his hands.

Turning one hand, which is released, Victor brushes back more of the longer fringe that has fallen into Yuuri's eyes; his eyes searching the other's face trying to read pain levels or maybe just catch a glimpse inside his mind.

Stepping forward, Yuuri runs his thumb over the worry line etched between Victor’s brows. If Yuuri is ever asked, he’ll blame it on the head wound first. If pressed, his heart second. “Please see my side,” he starts quietly redirecting the conversation, "I’m already not sure you haven’t taken days off to be here, babysitting me,” He pauses to reorganize his thoughts, “Taking the bed is too much, the couch really isn't that uncomfortable,” he shrugs with a small smile, “I'll gladly take a pillow though, I managed to forget mine.”

Victor is still, eyes wide. It takes a few heartbeats for Yuuri to realize his palm is resting flush against the side of Victor’s face, having migrated around so his thumb could rub slowly below Victor's eye while he was speaking. A furious blush burns Yuuri’s cheeks but he stoically remains put. Waiting for the ok, for permission to the request he’s terrified of asking for.

When Victor whispers, “Can I kiss you?” Yuuri’s heart skips a beat. He nods, going up on his toes to meet him halfway. 

The kiss is soft. A brush of lips against each other, once, twice, and another before Yuuri tips forward pressing his body further into Victor’s. An arm wraps around his waist then slides down to his hip, grip tightening and drawing a gasp from him. Victor takes the opportunity to lick at the seam of Yuuri’s lips; nearly six months of interactions and denied chances asking to be let free.

The fire in Yuuri has his head swimming as much as the breathless state he’s quickly finding himself falling into, and in a moment of grudging self-preservation he drops down before the kisses have a chance to deepen; feet flat on the floor, his forehead softly pressed against Victor’s collar. Turning his head just a touch allows him to hear Victor’s heart beating away in his chest, its rhythm in sync with Yuuri’s own frantic pace.

“Sorry.” He whispers. “I got a little light headed.”

Victor’s free hand finds its way up Yuuri’s arm to the back of his neck, thumb rubbing along the shorter hair raising gooseflesh along Yuuri’s arms. His whole body shudders a moment later from the action and close proximity.

Victor presses a kiss to the top of Yuuri’s head, “I wanted to bring you home after the awards ceremony.” He whispers into the silence, “That was my secret, earlier.” he adds in way of clarification, “We were having such a great time roaming the city, I didn’t want to chance it or have it end so I never said anything.”

Yuuri hmms before answering truthfully. “I wouldn’t have said yes,” he speaks without moving, unable to look up. “Everything was so new...is still mostly new, I couldn’t even believe you were willingly spending time with me that night. I would have been an even worse anxious mess and ran long before the sun rose if you’d have asked.”

Victor chuckles stepping back, hands still holding him, both warm on his shoulders, “Well I’m glad I didn’t ask then. That was one of the best nights I’ve had in a long while.”

At this, Yuuri glances up through his bangs. “You can’t be serious. A random night with me?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? You're funny, way too smart and witty.” Pausing to take in the disbelieving look written across Yuuri’s face Victor shakes his head, “You really don’t see it do you?” He interrupts his previous line of thought.

Yuuri closes his eyes and ducks his head. “I’m just an average recruit trying to survive the academy so I can make a difference in my community.”

The finger under Yuuri’s chin is gentle as it lifts his face, the tilt perfect for deep kisses and so much more. There isn’t much of a height difference between the two of them, but standing this close it feels exaggerated, but also perfect. Victor is just tall enough that Yuuri can tuck himself in under his shoulder and chin, can be cocooned in his arms; surrounded in safety and warmth. The feeling from a minute ago vivid and fresh in his mind; feeding a growing desire for more.

“You are so much more than average, but this is a conversation for another day.” Victor’s voice is barely audible, “Let’s get you to sleep and we can pick this up tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” Yuuri’s protest is weak even to his ears as Victor steps towards him, maneuvering him backward towards the bed. 

The smile on Victor’s face sparks a shiver up Yuuri’s spine. “I think I have a solution to this supposed argument.”

“And what’s that?” Yuuri asks as his legs come in contact with the mattress.

“We’ll both sleep here tonight.”


	9. dog walks and cat naps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna start with a huge shout out to everyone who has been here to help me through the past months and everyone who is returning to read the latest installment. You guys are literally the reason I've put fingers to keys these last months. All my love guys <3
> 
> Second, big thanks to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) for beta reading, you are amazing ma'am!
> 
> And lastly, I'm kinda back on tumblr [kanzaki19](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19) (as in, I finally downloaded the app on my new phone so I can get messages if you come yell at me there)
> 
> Big Hugs, and I hope you enjoy!

Yuuri is slow to wake, the warmth pressed against his back is comfortable in a way his pounding head isn’t. Loathe to move, he snuggles under the blanket a little further; content to lay in bed and enjoy the quiet. His sluggish brain, however, keeps whispering he’s forgotten something. Something big, something important, but the muted scent of lavender is distracting in it’s relaxing nature and it’s honestly easier not to think.

In the end, it’s the quiet that tips him off. Dorm living, no matter the age or situation is seldom quiet. There is almost always someone talking or wandering up and down the hall, or a tv turned up too loud in the room next door; especially on a Saturday morning. And Phichit, bless him, is an active sleeper from time to time, his twitches and kicks along with Yuuri’s tossing and turning combines to make for a constant background noise that can compete with the precious hamsters and the squeaky wheel they love to run on.

Safely under the covers, Yuuri plays over Friday’s events. The fact that it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours proves to be a topic his brain likes to return to. Less than a day ago he was preparing for a final. Which did not go as planned. It has been less than a day since Victor rode with him to the hospital and only a little over twelve hours since Yuuri was released and found himself in Victor’s apartment, having dinner, watching tv, and sort of meeting a neighbor.

His breath catches and he brings both hands up, covering his face. He kissed Victor. Less than twelve hours ago, standing in the middle of Victor’s room. A bridge they both had been flirting with for a while now had been crossed, and it had been _good_. Even an oblivious person could see the spark between them and only a cynic would deny that they made each other happy; but could it really be this easy?

His brain takes a moment to process that last thought, deciding how best to worry over the question, before remembering the warmth still pressed against his back. The sound of soft, slow breaths registering as an abstract idea. Surely he’s hallucinating. But Victor had said…

Slowly, so as to not disturb the sleeping form, Yuuri stretches and sits up; the blanket pooling at his waist as he turns. With a soft, deprecating laugh he rolls his eyes. 

It’s just Makkachin.

Just his luck, it’s what he deserves for getting his hopes up though. Blinking a few times to better adjust his eyes to the low light, Yuuri glances over to the nightstand for his glasses (the most likely place for them since he doesn’t remember actually taking them off). A crisp white paper bag sits next to them alongside a glass of water. Under the glasses is a handwritten note:

_Take two of these and call me in the morning_   
_~Dr. V.Fries_

Retrieving the bag, Yuuri groans. Putting the thought of Victor mocking the cheezy line while allowing his accent to go thick aside, at some point after tucking Yuuri into bed, Victor had left to retrieve the prescriptions from the pharmacy. Hopefully, he’d pulled some magic and only ventured to the one down the street and not crossed the whole city to pick it up from the store closest to the dorms, where the prescriptions had originally been sent. 

Groping around Yuuri turns on the bedside lamp, much to the displeasure of Makkachin who kicks him in the leg before rolling over away from the light, to read the warnings and directions.

Shaking out two tablets from one of the bottles and drinking the water, Yuuri makes his way out of the room. Finding the apartment empty is an odd feeling but presents a unique opportunity. Snagging a pair of dark sweats and one of his loose, soft, college shirts he makes his way to the bathroom.

After a quick shower and change Yuuri makes the bed, then commandeers the kitchen; preheating the oven, pulling ingredients and organizing everything as his mom taught him at a young age. Bacon joins the growing collection, as well as eggs, milk, and butter. A thorough search of the fridge and freezer fail to produce breakfast sausage but Yuuri does find some ground pork and most of the needed herbs and spices to create a facsimile of the breakfast item. Victor doesn't own the small square pan Yuuri needs for the eggs, an issue easily remedied next time Yuuri's out shopping, but he can make do with what he's got at the moment.

With swift practiced movements the patties are mixed, formed, added next to the bacon on the slotted pan, and slid into the oven as the alarm registers the preset temp. Yuuri turns his attention to cleaning up so he can use the same bowl before seasoning and whipping the eggs.

Breakfast is nearly finished when the door-handle rattles, Makka boofs quietly from his bed in the living room, where he migrated once the smells started filling the apartment but doesn’t move otherwise.

“Yuuri?” Victor calls as the door opens.

“Nope, just a random burglar making breakfast,” Yuuri answers looking over at Victor as he walks fully into the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Instead of acknowledging the last comment Victor asks, “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Yuuri gives a half shrug as he dishes the second (attempted) rolled egg, “It’s almost nine. If you ask Phichit, I did sleep in.”

A look crosses Victor face and Yuuri tries to read it even as it shifts away again, but comes up empty-handed. It’s calculating, but not in the cold, detached, officer kind of way; bordering concerned but also not. Deciding to not contemplate the complexities this early in the morning and chance aggravating the dulling throb in his head, Yuuri switches gears.

“So,” he says, drawing out the word before adding, “I made breakfast,” with a motion towards the table with his free hand.

The sparkle and smile that transforms Victor’s face as he takes in the spread is priceless. 

The table is adorned with a bowl of fresh fruit, two containers of yogurt on ice, a covered platter holding four slices of bacon and three sausage patties; a small plate left empty for toast sitting to the side and glasses for whichever drink they decide. The plated eggs sit on the counter next to Yuuri, waiting to join the ensemble.

“It smells delicious,” Victor turns back to him, “but you really didn't have to.” Victor looks down for a second, Yuuri just barely catching the look of disappointment, before he smiles and looks back up. 

Taking in the bag Yuuri changes the subject, “Go, sit. What treat do you have in the bag?”

Victor hesitates, the look of contemplation starkly different than the sharp features his face takes on while on duty. “I wasn't sure you would want anything for breakfast so I ran out and picked up a few bagels.” Victor laughs and Yuuri can't help but understand, and now feel bad for, the sour tone of what would normally be an amazing sound. 

“I'm sorry.” He says, setting the fresh egg in front of the chair Victor moved to stand behind. “I didn't mean to spoil anything, I just—” Yuuri stops, fighting the urge to bite his lip. He can feel Victor's eyes on him, and can practically hear the other man's thoughts, so he presses on. “When I woke, I found my meds. I'm willing to bet you drove across the city to pick them up.” The sheepish smile he receives is enough of an answer, so he continues. “And when I came back into the room after my shower, I noticed apart from where Makka and I had been, the bed wasn't messed up.” 

Here he stops, circling back to the fridge for juice, giving Victor an honest chance to deny the unspoken accusation. When no refusal comes, Yuuri sighs. 

“Victor--”

“Breakfast first.” Victor interrupts setting the bag down and pulling Yuuri’s seat out for him, “We can have this discussion after, on a full stomach.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath, making a face, but nods as he takes his seat, adding the container of juice to the table. “Ok, breakfast first.”

Victor glances around the small table as he sits, taking in the available variety before lifting the cover from the bacon and sausage.

“Yuuri?” He asks looking up from the plate. “Did you make these from scratch?”

Yuuri shrugs dismissively as he opens the paper bag containing the still warm bagels, “It wasn’t hard, sausage usually tastes better when it’s worked by hand.”

“Obviously,” Victor says as he moves one of the patties to his plate, “especially first thing in the morning,” he adds with a wink without missing a beat.

There’s a second of silence before Yuuri groans; making to stand from the table.

“Yuuri wait!” Victor exclaims trying not to laugh as he grabs Yuuri’s wrist before he can get out of his chair, “Where are you going?”

“To crawl under something and perish obviously.” He mumbles sinking lower in his seat, cheeks flaming as he looks over at Makka.

“I’m sorry,” Victor says scooting to the edge of his seat, closing the distance between them. “Hey.” He tries again, reaching out to lift Yuuri’s chin and turn his face towards him. “No perishing.” He smiles, something far too soft for the moment; waiting for Yuuri to exhale before speaking again. “What kind of nursemaid would I be if I let you perish on my watch?”

Yuuri can feel the corners of his mouth twitching up so he pouts to cover it, “I’m a horrible patient.” He confesses.

Victor runs his thumb along Yuuri’s protruding lower lip. “But you’re getting better.” he says softly as he breaks contact and leans back. “Now! Let’s eat before all this amazing food gets cold.”

 

Breakfast passes with far too much praise for something that really isn’t anything special, especially when compared to the quality of food versus the stress of the rushes at the Onsen.

“You should see my Okassan in the kitchen,” Yuuri says pushing part of his egg around on his plate, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “Now that’s amazing and delicious.”

Victor is quiet, breaking the easy flow of conversation to watch Yuuri for a few seconds. “You haven’t been home recently have you?”

Yuuri shakes his head without looking up “It’s been a few years. It wasn’t practical, not while finishing university, and now with the academy and everything that comes after.” He pauses with a shrug. “Maybe in a year or two, if I graduate and can settle into being a full fledge officer.”

Victor hums but doesn’t respond otherwise as he finishes off the few bites left on his plate. “You didn’t eat very much. How are you feeling this morning?”

The change of topic isn't missed and is greatly appreciated.

“Well enough,” Yuuri says after a moment of self reflection. “But I warn you, I don’t do well with sitting still for too long, so if your ideas for the day are lounging in front of the tv, I beg you to find something else.”

Victor chuckles, then asks with a smile, “Do you have enough appetite to finish your eggs or is Makka getting another treat from you before his lunch?”

Yuuri pokes the abused bite once more for good measure. “I don’t think I want to push it this early in the day.” He looks up catching Victor’s eye, “Maybe test my limits with a lunch and then plan dinner accordingly?”

Victor beams as he stands, gathering the dishes. “We can do that.”

Yuuri chuckles as he picks up his plate and calls Makka to him. 

“What's so funny?” Victor asks over the sound of water filling one of the sink basins. 

Yuuri chooses to not answer until he's finished with Makka; praising him for being such a good boy and taking the bites so carefully. 

Turning as he rises to his feet Yuuri smirks. “My piteous brain was thinking,” he starts waiting for Victor to look up from his task, “You must have really liked my sausage, once you tasted it, you hoarded the rest.”

Victor promptly drops the dish he’s rinsing in the empty basin with a loud clatter. His eyes widening at the comment, jaw working as he tries and fails to form coherent words.

With all the willpower Yuuri can muster, he snags the forgotten yogurts and crosses to the fridge. Sitting his plate on the counter when he’s near, he turns his back to Victor and opens the door blocking him mostly from view and leans over a bit farther than necessary to store the small containers in a bottom drawer.

“You are going to be the absolute death of me Katsuki.” Victor says taking an audible breath.

“Hmm?” the infliction on the sound proof of an unasked question as he straightens and closes the door wearing an innocent look that is a complete lie compared to his last comment.

“Oh no you don’t.” Victor breaths sliding the new dish in the sink and turning towards Yuuri. “You don’t get to say stuff like that and then turn puppy dog eyes on me like you’re all innocent.”

Yuuri draws his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from smiling and tries to keep his breathing even as he watches Victor’s eyes dilate and track the little movement. His heart, however, is beating a mile a minute and refuses to be tamed as they stand just out of arm's reach of each other; Victor technically blocked in the little contained space by Yuuri.

Holding still Yuuri watches Victor dry his hands, the dishes forgotten to a new task. He’s suddenly, acutely aware of every inch of his body; from the tingle in his fingertips to the growing heat in the pit of his stomach. He still has one hand braced against the fridge (quickly coming to terms with the fact that it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet), the other tucked behind his back. His hip is cocked slightly and he knows the way his arm is bent it frames the narrowest part of his waist. It wasn’t a deliberate move but he isn’t going to complain, not now that Victor has locked his vibrant blue eyes on him and taken a single, tentative step in his direction.

Yuuri knows where this adventure will lead if nothing is done immediately; hopes Victor wants it as much as he does, but he wants answers first. Has to have them before he can move forward. Taking two steps back Yuuri lets his arms fall to his side, keeping his body language as open as possible while never looking away from Victor; that turns out to be the hard part. 

The memory of discovering the other half of the bed undisturbed drags up his insecurities, shattering his courage like a facade. He draws an arm across his stomach to grip the opposite elbow and finally breaks eye contact.

“I don't understand.” He starts, looking back up and watching Victor's face; catching the shift in his eyes at the change in subject. 

After a moment Victor fills in the silence, “Why I didn't sleep in the room with you?”

Yuuri nods, at first unable to put words to his anxiety, “Most of the time you act like you're interested in more than what we have now, but then something happens and you put space between us. I don’t know where I stand.”

Victor exhales, his whole body shifting as he seems to settle into the new direction with grace. “Will you listen to my reasons and promise not to hold them against me?”

Yuuri nods and lets himself be led to the couch where Victor settles them facing each other; their knees _just_ touching due to the angle.

“I’ll start with this,” Victor says taking one of Yuuri’s hands in his. “I’ve wanted to know you since the first time Chris pointed you out.” He squeezes his hand softly as he pauses for breath. “Watching you excel in the academy has been a sight unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and knowing all the talent you still have locked away fills me with excitement.”

Yuuri ducks his head, heat growing across his cheeks. Shaking his head after letting Victor’s words sink in he takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “That still doesn’t explain you pulling away though.” He looks up just in time to watch Victor glance off, his eyes flickering to the balcony doors; mood shifting just as quick. 

Yuuri takes a shaky breath, laying his free hand over the clasped pair. “I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I push, sometimes, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.”

Victor’s head shakes minutely. “This job will change you if you’re not careful...It’ll change you if you are careful. I didn’t notice or at least pretended not to notice at first. I got good at wearing a jovial mask; smile for the cameras, be the face of the department. It all became a show?” He pauses here, still lost in his mind, contemplating his words. “I knew I started to viewed the career differently. It was still something I loved, I just didn’t always love doing it. There was something missing, but I didn’t know what.

“And then I saw you. So much talent, so much passion. You were literally a light in the dark.”

Victor turns back to Yuuri, his smile small but genuine. “I pull away when I’m scared you won’t like what the job does to me. I’m not an angry man, but the weight of the calls sometimes become too much and I worry you won’t want to deal with that side of me.

“Last night though, I pulled away because I never want you to second guess a single thing between us. I want to be sure that no matter what happens you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when we are together you are safe and can have complete control if you want.”

There’s a burning in the back of Yuuri’s throat, a fire in his chest, and he has to blink a few times to be sure he isn’t going to cry. Victor is sat before him; an open book. The hope balanced precariously against the pain; a house of cards ready to tumble.

“I never want to be the reason you don’t feel just as safe.” Yuuri has to stop and collect himself before continuing. “I don’t want a mask or an act. I just want you to be you, Victor. Please don’t think you ever have to hide from me.”

Yuuri is suddenly pulled forward into Victor’s tight embrace. “I hope one day you understand what that means to me,” Victor whispers, his breath teasing against Yuuri’s neck.

Rendered speechless Yuuri just nods. Even if he had them, words would be useless now.

Makka finally joins them, drawing a laugh from Yuuri when the aging pup knocks their knees together bidding for attention.

“Let me change into real clothes and we can take Makka for a walk.” He says pulling away from Victor. “I’ll only be a second.”

Victor turns to watch Yuuri cross the room. “I’ll get the two of us ready then.”

 

It isn’t until they’re standing in the hall, locking up, that it dawns on Yuuri that he really has no idea where he is. He knows Victor’s apartment is downtown and that it’s apparently apartment 808 but beyond that, it’s really anyone’s guess.

Gently grasping Yuuri by the waist Victor leads him towards the bank of elevators. “I’ll give you the abridged tour now and if there’s anything you want to check out later we can come back without Makkachin and go from there.”

The warmth of Victor’s hand through Yuuri’s shirt sends a shiver up his spine. The acknowledging squeeze is unhelpful on all accounts, but definitely not unwelcome, and as Yuuri closes the gap between them, Victor’s pleased hum is unmistakable.

Victor releases Yuuri to step into the elevator first, turning only to select the lobby before returning his attention to the other man.

“There is a gym on the top floor,” Victor begins as the doors slide shut. “Along with a few common entertainment spaces and game rooms. They host a party for all the residents on the roof terrace in July and on New Year’s so everyone can watch the fireworks from home. I’ve heard it’s nice.” He shrugs, then moves on. “Outside, the courtyard holds green space with a fire pit and a few places to grill, and a pool that’s pretty nice with lounges and complimentary towels. We have a spa on the ground floor that is amazing. It’s open to the public, which is actually how I found this place before I moved in.”

“Only the best for you.” Yuuri grins, unable to stop himself as he takes in the way the golden light highlights Victor’s silver hair and adds a subtle glow to his complexion.

“In all aspects of my life.” He answers reaching across to brush a few stray locks of hair from Yuuri’s eyes. “You have to know what you want to be able to accomplish your dreams and goals. Once you know that, you won’t be able to settle for anything less.”

“Imparting words of wisdom huh?” Yuuri asks knocking shoulders with Victor as he laces their fingers together and leads them out into the impressive foyer just off the lobby. 

 

Their meandering path leads them along the main thoroughfare for a few red lights before following a narrow side street to a fenced, dog friendly park. Victor produces a tennis ball from the backpack he’d grabbed from the closet on the way out.

“Makka’s very own go-bag.” Yuuri notes with a smile. “You’ve got such a caring dad.” He coos scratching Makkachin, “Aren’t you a lucky pup.”

Makka’s soft bark startles Yuuri who laughs and pats him one last time as Victor tosses the ball.

The sun rises ever closer to its apex as they both share the task of running Makka through his paces. The second time Yuuri declines his turn Victor takes pause, calling Makka to sit.

“How about we head back to the apartment. We can make the salads for lunch and find something to do inside for a bit.”

“I’m ok.” Yuuri starts, an attempt at denial falling quickly from him, the weather is too nice; the sun too bright. 

“You’re not.” Victor interrupts, stashing the tennis ball and newly emptied and dried water dish in the backpack. Pulling the leash free he continues, “And your punishment for trying to deny it will be carrying the bag home.”

“My punishment?” Yuuri asks lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Victor smirks, zipping the bag and passing it to Yuuri. “Actions have consequences and lying to an officer is never a good idea.”

“Classifying how someone _feels_ is subjective at best and objective at worse.” Yuuri counters, taking the bag. “It becomes nonsensical when all the variables that are the human mind, are factored into the equation.”

“Ah yes, fancy science.” Victor says standing, leading Makkachin away, “I see you're still carrying the bag though.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, adjusting the straps as they cross the field towards the gates. 

The walk back to the apartment is done mostly in silence (and in the shadows of the buildings), only broken when Victor asks if Yuuri has a preference in salad dressings as they near a corner grocery store. If Yuuri is being honest with himself (which he isn’t), he’d admit his nausea and the growing pressure behind his eyes isn’t due to allergies, but instead from all the walking and moving he’s been doing this morning. He will, however, admit that the quiet of the apartment sounds amazing and as long as he survives the elevator ride he’ll be... well not right as rain, but at least a little better. Of course, he doesn’t say anything though.

Victor thankfully leads them straight back, only pausing to introduce Yuuri to the doorman and front desk clerk to make sure his name is entered on the approved visitor lists. Yuuri smiles and talks when he’s supposed to, but only says the bare minimum. When they finally make it to the elevator Yuuri sinks down to pet Makka as soon the doors slide shut.

The elevator shudders to life and the feel of fingers combing through his hair draws Yuuri’s attention up in time to watch Victor kneel in front of him. 

“It’s ok to rest when you’re injured, you’re human, it’s allowed.” Victor’s thumb traces along Yuuri’s hairline under his messy bangs, sending chills across his body. 

“I don’t want to been seen as weak.” Yuuri’s voice is barely above a whisper, the truth an issue he’s been fighting for years.

“Admitting you’re not healthy doesn’t make you weak, Yuuri, it shows a strength most people don’t possess.” Victor stands and guides Yuuri to his feet as the elevator dings and the doors slide open. “Come on, let’s get you inside. We’ll make lunch and check your meds, it should be time for another dose.”

Yuuri nods following Victor down the hall, their fingers tangled together.

“Why don’t you freshen up and change into something comfortable while I prepare lunch?” Victor offers unclipping Makkachin and giving him a firm pat before letting him run free.

Yuuri watches from the door, his hesitation noticed almost immediately by Victor; he names concern as the most prominent emotion that settles on the other man’s face in that moment. Standing still as Victor closes the few steps between them, Yuuri takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“Yuuri?” He asks, hand cupping Yuuri’s cheek, thumb grazing below the frames of his glasses this time. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Yuuri shakes his head no. How do you tell the man you looked up to and who inspired you to follow the path you’re currently on, THEN, by the grace of some divine universal power now stands before you with love and concern painted across their face, that you’ve felt like a moron more times than not since yesterday and just want to pinch yourself to ensure it isn’t all a concussion induced hallucination.

“No, yes?” Yuuri closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “I’m terrified I’m going to wake up and this will all have been a dream.”

Victor chuckles and leans his forehead against Yuuri’s, “I promise it’s not and I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Go freshen up.” Victor kisses Yuuri’s cheek and turns him towards the bathroom door. “Lunch will be ready when you finish.”

 

After a quick, quiet lunch, Victor relocates Yuuri to the living room, turning off all the lights, except a single lamp next to the couch, as they go.

“Do you want to watch tv or just nap?” He asks softly watching Yuuri for a second then turning back to the kitchen to clean up.

Yuuri hums, glancing towards the bedroom door for a second. “If you want to watch that’s fine. I’ll probably just listen though.”

Victor pauses, “Would you rather nap in the room?”

“I’ll be ok.” Yuuri starts, the denial coming almost second nature to him.

“Try to get comfy in the room and once I’m done, I’ll come join you?”

Nodding, Yuuri ducks into the bedroom. After sitting on the edge of the bed for a minute he decides to brush his teeth again. He notices Victor in the closet on his way back across but doesn’t think anything of it until he makes it to the room and sees his bag missing. Circling back he leans against the door frame, watching Victor for a second.

“Why are you emptying my duffle into the dresser?” He tries not to whine, he really does, but watching Victor place every piece of clothing in the drawer one at a time (organizing as he goes), is an exciting, yet terrifying image.

Victor shrugs, “I took a liberty, I wanted you to know it’s ok for you to be here and reaffirm the fact that you’re always welcome in my home.”

Yuuri stands by watching until the last shirt goes into the draw, only drawn from his thoughts and slight shock that _Victor cleared a drawer for me?!_ by said man reaching for one of the side zippers.

“Ok, that’s enough!” Yuuri bolts forward with the intent of pulling the bag free but instead finds himself grabbed around the waist and twisted elegantly into a dip worthy of any ballroom dance floor. He can feel Victor’s knee just behind his shoulders for support if needed, hands warm where they grasp his hand and waist; blue eyes entirely too clear and mischievous. 

“Worried I’ll see your unmentionables?”

Victor’s voice is a deep whisper and Yuuri can’t suppress the full body chill and swallows thickly before he answers, knowing his voice is going to shake no matter the precaution. “Not particularly. I just...” Whatever else he could possibly say is lost to the void as Victor lifts him out of the dip, their bodies turning until they stand directly in front of each other; only a breath of space between them.

“I’ll leave you here with this,” Victor slips the bag from his shoulder to Yuuri’s, “and freshen up myself. Make yourself comfortable?”

Yuuri nods dumbly, watching as Victor pulls his own loungewear from a bottom drawer and disappears around the corner; the sound of running water breaks his trance. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri unceremoniously shoves his underwear and socks next to his shirts and slides the drawer shut with a shaky sigh. Leaning his head against the cool wood he gathers his thoughts and slows his racing heart before making his way back to the bedroom.

The bed is freshly made, just how he left it, and far too inviting as he debates pulling the covers back or just stretching out on top. In the end, stretching out on top wins out and he makes himself comfortable, or at least tries to.

When Victor finally joins him, hair blown dry and smelling of his soaps and shampoo, Yuuri is all but tossing and turning, only pausing to watch Victor cross the room and pull a book from the shelf, exam it for a moment then turn back to the bed.

“Will it bother you if I turn on my bedside lamp?”

Yuuri rolls to his side, the far edge of the bed closer than he original positioned. “No. I’ll be fine.” 

He starts to apologize again for ruining Victor’s weekend but catches himself, the words dying on his tongue as Victor climbs into bed making himself at home, leaning against the headboard; feet crossed at the ankle.

Yuuri can’t help the emotions that wash over him. Despite everything that happened last night and this morning, how close they have slowly been growing since they first met, Victor is still willing to let Yuuri set the boundaries and limits. 

Seeing the power being handed to him, Yuuri moves across the bed, sliding down to rest his head on Victor's thigh. Tilting his head up, Yuuri catches Victor watching him, a soft smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. 

“Do you want me to get the throw blanket before you get too comfortable?” Victor asks softly. “With the curtains pulled tight, it can get chilly in here.” He adds in explanation. 

Yuuri thinks about it for a second then nods, letting Victor up to retrieve the blanket folded at the foot of the bed. The material is soft, with a texture of fine, smooth cotton that slips around Yuuri as it's draped over his body. 

“Thank you.” He says scooting back towards the center of the bed and snuggling down once Victor is comfortable again. “Don’t let me sleep too long please, I don’t want to keep you trapped here all day.”

Victor runs his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, “One of these days I hope you understand, that isn’t a bad thing for me.”


	10. chicken noodle soup for the soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big thanks to [Zupsgirl1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Zupan/pseuds/Zupsgirl1) and [ICanSeeClearlyNow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ICanSeeClearlyNow) for helping me get this chapter all figured out.
> 
> hope you guys like it, as always you can yell at me here or here: [kanzaki19](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19)

The room is dark when Yuuri startles awake, the quiet seemingly broken only by Victor’s soft breaths; his chest rising and falling under Yuuri’s palm. Compared to Victor’s slow, steady heartbeat, Yuuri’s is racing.

Closing his eyes against the throbbing in his skull he takes a shuddering breath and turns his head, listening to Victor’s heart, counting the beats and trying to calm his own heart rate. 

Victor’s hand covers Yuuri’s, gripping lightly. “What’s wrong Solnyshko?” His voice is quiet, accent thicker with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Yuuri whispers, not moving from his spot.

“You didn’t, the thunder did; you also didn’t answer my question.”

“That must have been what woke me too,” Yuuri thinks out loud, falling quiet for a moment as he tries to ignore his bladder in favor of staying snuggled next to Victor. “I’ll be right back.” He finally grumbles, forcing himself up and off the bed; only to sit back down immediately.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks, his concern evident as he quickly slides across the bed. “What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri concentrates on the warmth of Victor’s hand pressing lightly against his lower back, “I’ll be ok, I just stood up too quick and got dizzy.”

“Sit still, I’ll get you some water.” Victor leaves taking the grounding comfort with him.

The nausea washing through Yuuri is more overwhelming than he can fight; knowing he won’t win the battle, he runs for the bathroom, door slamming behind him.

When he finally emerges he’s wrung out, but feels better, and having brushed his teeth and washed his face he even feels slightly human again.

Victor is waiting on the edge of the bed with a glass of water and a cool washcloth, concern radiating from him in waves.

“Have you been nauseous all day?” He asks quietly, patting the mattress and handing Yuuri the glass as he approaches.

“Most of the day.” Yuuri corrects taking a small sip. “I hoped a nap would fix it, and it did, mostly, until I stood up too quick.” He shrugs leaning over to sit the glass down on the nightstand. “Something else I’ll have to add to the list of things I obviously can’t do anymore.”

The storm chooses this moment to remind them of its progress; lightning illuminating the living room, a clap of thunder following almost immediately after. 

Yuuri flinches, his whole body seizing for a second, laughter bubbling out of him at the reaction. “What time is it anyways?” He asks changing the subject before Victor can comment on the scare, his blue eyes already locked on Yuuri.

Victor glances over to the digital clock on the far side of the bed, “Almost five.”

Humming in acknowledgment, Yuuri reaches for the glass again. 

“I'd ask if you would like something light for dinner,” Victor reaches across to lightly grasp Yuuri’s knee, “but I can't imagine food sounds appealing right now.”

Yuuri swallows thickly, the tiny sip seeming like so much more in the moment as he sits the glass down, “Maybe in a little while.”

“Do you want to lay back down?”

Yuuri shakes his head slightly. “Want to watch something on TV?” He offers instead.

Victor gives him a once over and Yuuri’s mind quickly supplies him with the thought of how it would feel to have Victor's eyes on him in less of a clinical and more of an intimate kind of way. He shudders at the imagery. 

"I'm fine now." He reassures, taking one of Victor's hands as he stands. "You've got to be hungry, and maybe after an episode or two I'll have some kind of appetite myself."

Victor concedes, grabbing the large throw blanket as he's pulled from the room. 

Yuuri picks up the blanket from the back of the couch, where it had been folded and stored after he went to bed last night; wrapping it around his shoulders and snuggling on the far side of the couch; curling his legs up beside him. Victor settles on the opposite side tucking his feet in next to Yuuri's; he fluffs the blanket across their legs to fend off a bit of the chill from the AC.

They agree on a haunted show based on first responders experiences with ghosts and other things that go bump in the night, relaxing into their places as the show plays on. By the middle of the second episode they're both animated, carrying on about how they would have handled the calls the same or (most of the time) differently.

When the commercials start at the end of the latest show, Victor extricates himself from the covers, handing the remote across to Yuuri. 

"I'm going to make chicken noodle soup, would you like some?"

Yuuri looks up at Victor with a soft smile. "Yes please, I should be able to handle that."

The sound of chopping is soon heard from the kitchen drawing Yuuri to the island counter top. 

"Victor?" He asks, as Victor slides the fresh cut carrots into a small pot, starting on the next vegetable. “You’re making it from scratch?”

“You didn’t expect soup from a can did you?” He asks with a chuckle turning his attention to an onion, pausing to offer it for silent approval; continuing to expertly dice the often offensive item without a single tear once Yuuri nods.

Yuuri is quickly ushered back to the stool when he tries to help; a loose threat of exile to the couch if he tries anything again.

The next episode plays unwatched in the background, forgotten to better conversations.

“I’m not helpless.” Yuuri rests his chin in the palm of his hand, “I can help,” he tries for the third time in ten minutes.

Victor reaches across the counter to boop Yuuri on the nose. “You’re being a bad patient again. No one likes whiny patients.”

“I’m not whiny,” Yuuri argues, sitting up, his hand dropping to his chest in an affronted gasp.

Victor smiles, the action lighting his eyes, “No, no; of course not.”

Yuuri groans, laying his head down on the cool surface. “Be nice to me, I’m sickly.” He might be pouting, but he feels worlds better, and it’s all for show anyways.

Victor’s laugh fills the room, earning a bark from the bedroom where Makka was left lounging in his bed. Yuuri ducks his head farther when Victor ruffles his hair, peeking up only to watch the rest of the soup come together before being set to simmer while Victor tears the final leftover bits of chicken into bite size pieces. 

“Whatever we do for lunch tomorrow, I vote no chicken.”

Now it’s Yuuri’s turn to laugh, “It shows your talents in meal planning though. We were able to eat three times on one cooked protein.”

“Only because you hardly ate.” Victor points out.

“I ate enough to feel full without tempting fate with the headaches or nausea.” Yuuri defends with a shrug.

Victor concedes the point as he adds the chicken and noodles, stirring gently until the concoction is simmering again. Once the noodles are tender he removes the pot from the stove top and ladles the still bubbling liquid into two bowls. 

“Come on with you.” Victor calls, carefully carrying the dishes to the living room and depositing them on the table, waiting for Yuuri to settle before pulling the table closer.

Yuuri lifts a spoonful, blowing on it before sampling the broth, “You did really good.” He compliments, eagerly eating another bite. 

Victor smiles around a spoonful of his own, “Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri polishes off his bowl, snagging Victor’s as he finishes his and makes for the kitchen despite Victor’s protests. A well timed _’Please, just this one thing,’_ and maybe another small pout, gives him the result he is looking for, albeit by way of a fond eye roll; but even small victories are victories right? And really it’s only two bowls and spoons with the empty pot and ladle, it’s not like it’s a sink full of dishes. He has everything washed, dried, and put up before the commercial break is over; finding himself shuffling under the covers as the episode comes back on. 

Victor’s hand snakes under the cover finding Yuuri’s foot, pulling it into his lap and rubbing small circles on his ankle. 

By the next commercial break, Yuuri can no longer concentrate on whatever haunted tales are being told on screen, all his focus now on the spots where Victor’s fingers are on his foot. Finally reaching his limit, he reaches down and guides Victor’s hand up from where it is massaging the arch of his foot, linking their fingers together.

“Sorry, was it bothering you?” Victor asks glancing to Yuuri, who has moved closer and is now sitting cross legged next to him.

“Not at all,” Yuuri pauses, drawing his lower lip in as he gathers his courage. “I was just thinking your hands could be put to better use elsewhere.”

Victor’s breath catches, “My dear patient, are you trying to seduce your doctor?”

“Maybe,” Yuuri whispers, “is it working?”

Smiling, Victor leans across, freeing his hand to lay his palm against Yuuri’s cheek, and softly kiss the edge of his mouth. “Maybe.” He breathes, kissing under one eye then the other, crisscrossing Yuuri's face as he goes. Yuuri chuckles, turning his face and catching Victor on the lips. 

Smiling into the kiss, Victor moves, shifting to fully face Yuuri; guiding him back until he is stretched out beneath him on the couch, caged in like he had been the night before. His right hand rests on Yuuri’s cheek, left pressing against the arm of the couch (just over Yuuri’s head) holding him up. Victor has one leg bent, knee resting next to Yuuri’s side; the other extended behind him. His weight is perfectly balanced between his knee and the toes of his left foot, giving him a scant few inches clearance over Yuuri’s body.

Yuuri rests his palm against Victor’s chest, gauging the racing of his heart before sliding his hand around to Victor’s side and down to his hip. He can feel the blush painting his cheeks but refuses to look away, this is not something he wants to forget. Very deliberately, Yuuri tightens his grip and watches as Victor holds his breath, eyes dilating slightly. Yuuri holds still, his own breath catching, then he moves, using his strength to leverage his hips up. The sight of Victor’s eyes sliding closed and his shuddering hiss, is enough to make the world fall away.

Victor's free hand slides around to support Yuuri's head and neck as he captures his lips in a fierce kiss, the both of them opening up, wanting to taste and explore there other.

Yuuri rocks up against Victor again, pulling a moan from him and is rewarded as Victor chases the contact by grinding down. They find a rhythm between themselves, something settling, not nearly as frantic as Yuuri almost figured it would be after all this time. Instead it's something amazing, something filled with passion and desire; not just lust and greed. It's perfect, but not nearly enough. 

Yuuri breaks the kiss, "We should head to the bedroom." His voice is breathy and low.

Victor pushes himself up and off of Yuuri, eyes raking over his body, bringing a visible shudder as the thoughts from earlier flood back. “Are you sure?” His voice is as raspy as Yuuri’s, catching his accent and doing amazing and horrible things to Yuuri’s sense of self control.

“Come on, up with you.” Yuuri tries again closing the space to steal a quick kiss and wedge his arm beneath him in the process.

Victor reluctantly stands and extends his hand to help Yuuri up as well. Yuuri accepts the offer, stepping into Victor’s space, he opens his mouth to say something, then closes it with a smirk. A plan building in his mind, he takes Victor’s hand, stepping around him to lead them both back to the room; pausing only to ask Victor to shut the door once they are through the threshold, locking Makka in the living room where he had slipped in hopes of getting more scraps from Yuuri during dinner. Yuuri continues around to the far side of the bed twisting to face Victor. 

Taking Victor’s captured hand, Yuuri lays it on his own hip, raising his hands to gently push Victor back and onto the bed, staying close enough to not fully break contact. Victor shuffles back until he’s in the middle of the bed and comfortably lying beneath Yuuri, hand firmly back on the smaller man’s hip.

“Should I be worried?” He asks licking his lips.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” Yuuri answers leaning in to kiss the corner of Victor’s mouth from where he’s straddling his lap.

Victor smiles, sliding his hand up Yuuri’s side under his shirt, “That’s my line.”

Yuuri kisses Victor again, licking at the seam of his lips, then pulls away to a groan “We can agree it’s both of our line, and that for now it isn’t necessary.” 

There’s a pause as Victor watches him before he smiles and grasps Yuuri by both hips, letting his hands slide under his waistband and over the curve of Yuuri’s ass. Yuuri swallows a moan, back arching as he shifts his hips, there’s just enough friction to drive them both to aggravation. 

Leaning back Yuuri runs his hands down to Victor’s stomach, splaying his fingers over the muscles; rotating his hands out across the dips and curves of Victor’s abs.

“As much as I love the feel of your hands on my ass, you’ll have to let go for a second.” Yuuri teases, rocking back into the grasp, earning a squeeze and a pout. “You’ll like it, I think.” He encourages, leaning down to kiss along Victor’s jaw then down the line of muscle to his clavicle. 

Victor moves slow, letting his nails rake along the material as he pulls his hands free, following the motion up and around Yuuri’s hips. Yuuri shudders, pressing his forehead against Victor’s chest, taking a few breaths to rein in his heart rate and nerves.

 _Doing_ has never been the problem for Yuuri, it’s the making up his mind, then _starting_ that wreaks havoc with his nerves. Once he makes a decision and actually sets out on a path it’s easy —well not easy— but it’s sure as hell easier than letting the worry eat him alive wondering what _might_ happen.

Taking another deep breath, he concentrates on the fire in his veins being fueled by Victor’s thumbs running circles across the V cuts at his hips. Two can play this game apparently, that’s good to know. With his hands still on Victor, Yuuri sits up, guiding Victor’s shirt up; Victor willingly releasing him to lift his arms so Yuuri can pull the piece of clothing free.

Victor moves his hands back to Yuuri’s hips, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “Do I get to do the same?”

Yuuri smiles, a wicked little smirk, before reaching up and pulling his shirt off over his head. It isn’t necessary, the little wiggle he does after letting the shirt fall to the bed next them, but the groan from Victor as he rolls his head back and lifts his hips is well worth it.

Yuuri braces a hand next to Victor’s waist, catching a chaste kiss before moving on, mapping his way down Victor’s neck again; pausing to suck a mark just below his clavicle (out of sight and well hidden under his uniform). Switching to mark the other side, Yuuri lets his free hand roam the plane of Victor’s chest, his thumb circling Victor’s nipple before rolling the little bud between his fingers. Satisfied with the twin marks, Yuuri kisses down Victor’s chest, fingers still gently working one nipple as he licks the other. 

The sounds he’s pulling are heady, and the desire to hear more drives him on as he works down Victor’s torso, tasting him inch by inch. When he reaches the waist band he pauses, looking up. His breath is quick and shallow, the mess of a man he’s made Victor leaving him groundless for a moment. Victor’s eyes are dilated, the blue nearly consumed, breaths just as quick as Yuuri’s and his desire unmistakable beneath the light material.

“May I?” Yuuri asks, his voice low and steady (despite the slight tremble in his hands). The breathy ‘Please’ is like music to his ears as Victor braces himself on his elbows and lifts his hips to allow Yuuri to slide the clothing free with little effort when he’s ready.

Yuuri rises and moves back, mindful of the edge, easing Victor’s pants down as he goes. His breath catches at the sight, his mind threatening to stall as well. Of fucking course Victor Nikiforov isn’t wearing underwear.

Victor’s hip is hot beneath Yuuri’s palm where he grips to brace himself as he leans forward to kiss Victor again. Sucking on the other man’s lower lip, Yuuri rocks his hips down; their cocks pressing against each other again. The removal of one layer of cloth making him pause.

Victor grabs Yuuri’s ass with one hand, the other snaking around his neck so he can pull himself closer to latch onto the upper edge of Yuuri’s clavicle. “Don’t be a tease.” he growls over Yuuri’s moan sucking his own mark into Yuuri's soft flesh.

Sitting up, Yuuri rotates his hips one more time before slipping off to stand at the edge of the bed. This isn't a time for hesitating. Sometimes the only option is to take, and he knows exactly what he wants. Using Victor's moment of confusion, or shock, to his advantage, Yuuri reaches down, grasps Victor by the back of the knees and drags him toward the edge in front of him; his own knees sinking to the floor along with Victor’s pants, as he settles himself between Victor's legs. 

Victor manages to sit up just in time to watch Yuuri take his penis into his mouth in one go. His sharp intake of breath punctuated by his hand locking in Yuuri's hair. 

Yuuri swallows as deeply as he can, humming as Victor’s fingers tangle in his hair pulling slightly. The string of Russian echoing in the room around him is all the encouragement he needs. Hollowing his checks Yuuri pulls up, nearly all the way off, so only the head of Victor’s cock is in his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around the tip, teasing the sensitive slit along the top before swallowing him down again.

“Yuuri. Damnit.” Victor gasps, “I’m not gonna last if you keep that up.” 

Yuuri’s only answer is to lay his tongue flat against the vein, pull almost off and draw Victor back in, setting a new rhythm while pressing one palm against Victor’s hips to hold him in place and keep him from thrusting up. Yuuri slides his other hand up to cup Victor’s balls, playing with them in time to his other ministrations.

“Shit, Yuuri.” Victor tries again, his hand tightening in the black locks below him, the action earning another deep hum.

Yuuri can feel Victor’s thighs shaking against his arms where he has them braced against the bed. The other man twitching as he tries to rock up into Yuuri’s mouth. He can also feel the clenching of Victor’s abs just above his hands. He’s close, only needing a little more to shove him over the edge. Pulling up Yuuri sneaks a deep breath before sinking back down, deeper this time than anytime before, his nose brushing neatly trimmed silver. 

Yuuri stills, with his breath held he is completely motionless. He can feel the tremors running through Victor's body and waits, timing his next move immediately after Victor releases a shaky breath. Swallowing around Victor again, Yuuri holds the constriction while running his thumb down Victor's perineum, circling his entrance and putting just enough pressure against the tight ring of muscles until they barely start to give. 

The effect is instant. 

Victor's grip tightens in his hair, just on the right side of pain, as he finally gives in, thrusting up and deeper into Yuuri's throat as he comes with a shuddering cry.

Yuuri can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes as he drinks down everything Victor has to offer. Only pulling off once Victor has released his hair and collapsed flat on the bed.

They both gasp for air for a moment, Victor sitting up first with a groan; his finger catching under Yuuri's chin, encouraging him up off the floor, where he has settled with his head resting against the inside of Victor's knee, and back onto the bed and into his embrace. 

"You are going to be the absolute death of me." Victor declares still breathing deep, kissing Yuuri thoroughly a moment later, and maneuvering him onto his back, pinning him to the bed.

When they break for air Yuuri shrugs, “You only live once, right?” He smiles, reaching up to run his fingers through Victor’s hair and guide him back down. “Some opportunities shouldn’t be passed up.”

“Very true.” Victor whispers against Yuuri’s lips.

The feeling of Victor’s hand palming him through his sweats causes Yuuri to arch up chasing the contact. His gasp followed by a whimper as the pressure is removed.

“Patience.” Victor chuckles, shifting to dig in the drawer of his nightstand.

Yuuri sits up, leaning on his elbows to get a better view, but finds himself being guided back down as Victor comes back from his side quest.

“My turn.” He smiles as he kisses Yuuri below his ear, then down his neck, following a similar path as Yuuri had on him. Letting his hands lead the way with feather light touches, raising gooseflesh in their trails, Victor makes his way down to Yuuri's waist band, easing the sweats off to join his in the floor. 

Yuuri’s heart nearly stops as he watches Victor’s eyes sweep up his exposed body, his chest caving in as he exhales when Victor moves to lean over and kiss him slow and deep before making his way back down. The heat between their naked bodies adding to the flush spreading from Yuuri’s face and neck.

Victor gets as far as Yuuri’s thigh, sucking a chain of hickies from the outside of Yuuri’s hip to the tender flesh of his inside thigh, before switching sides and doing it again; all the while neglecting Yuuri’s cock, letting it lay heavy and untouched. Yuuri whines reaching down to stroke himself. 

“No touching.” Victor reprimands moving back up so he can pin both of Yuuri’s wrists above his head, securely holding them in place with his hand.

Yuuri shudders but nods, “No touching.” He repeats, sucking in a breath as Victor’s other hand works magic on his nipple, giving just enough pain that pleasure coils tighter in Yuuri’s abdomen. 

“Very good.” The praise is accompanied by Victor sliding his knee between Yuuri’s legs, letting his thigh press right against him. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

Yuuri nods again and remains as he was arranged when Victor releases him. The sound of a cap snapping open proving almost too much for his control as he watches Victor warm the clear liquid between his fingers.

Victor lays his dry palm against Yuuri’s chest, directly above his heart, eyes still dilating but accessing. “Take a deep breath for me Yuuri.” His voice is rough around the edges but filled with concern. Yuuri blinks a few times, taking a deep breath, the string of shallow gulps broken and is rewarded by Victor leaning in and kissing him softly, slowly, and deeply in it’s own right. Yuuri is so caught up in the kiss that Victor’s hand wrapping around him is an honest surprise. Victor’s smile grows as he kisses Yuuri’s moans from his lips.

Between Victor’s knee holding him in place, hand working his cock with just enough grip (and a wicked twist at just the right moment), and his mouth leaving marks across his torso, Yuuri quickly finds himself overwhelmed. He can feel everything tightening, threatening to crash around him. Twisting his hands around he grabs fist fulls of sheets in an attempt to ground himself, it doesn’t work, and so he writhes; rocking down against Victor’s knee. Praise and cries for more tumble from him as easily as they do from Victor.

“You’re so beautiful like this” Victor’s growls sucking another hickey onto Yuuri’s chest over his heart. “Will you come for me,” another hickey, “let me see you fully undone?”

Yuuri gasps as Victor gently takes his nipple in his mouth, then sucks hard, his hands working his body like and instrument. It’s too much. It’s just right. Releasing a breath he hadn’t even realize he was holding, Yuuri’s fingers find Victor’s hair as he thrusts sharply up into his clenched hand, coming with a broken sob as Victor works him through one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

“I’ve got you.” Victor hushes softly, his clean hand wiping a tear from Yuuri’s check.

They lay there, tangled around one another, each with a hand on the other's chest —their hearts slowly calming— until the temperature of the room finally saps their extra warmth causing Yuuri to shudder from the chill. 

Yuuri lets out a soft groan at the uncomfortable mess across his stomach and on Victor's hand. Laughing a moment later, unable to stop himself.

“I’ll be right back.” Victor promises with a soft kiss under both of Yuuri's eyes.

A damp washcloth makes quick work of the mess and Yuuri soon finds himself bundled up in Victor’s arms, warm and safe under the blankets.

“Sleep, tomorrow will be better.”

Yuuri hums in agreement, gathering his thoughts. “Thank you for watching over me.” He whispers into the quiet of the room. 

“Any time, my Yuuri.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are always loved <3  
> come scream at me (kanzaki19) on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kanzaki19) or [twitter](https://www.twitter.com/kanzaki19)


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